Presented  by 
MISS  HELEN   MILLER  GOULD 

TO  THE 

International  Committee 

OF 

Young    Men's  Christian  Associations 

FOR   USE   OF 

American  Soldiers 

6-0-B37B6  N  U  M  B  E  R 


THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 

OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


Tristram 
of  Blent 


BT   THE    SAME    AUTHOR 


A  Man  of  Mark 

Mr  Witt's  Widow 

Father  Stafford 

A  Change  of  Air 

Half  a  Hero 

The  Prisoner  of  Zenda 

The  God  in  the   Car 

The  Dolly  Dialogues 

Comedies  of  Courtship 

The  Chronicles   of  Count  Antonio 

The  Heart  of  Princess  Osra 

Phroso 

Simon  Dale 

Rupert  of  Hentzau 

The  King's  Mirror 

QuiSANTE 


Tristram 
of  Blent 

CA;/  episode  in  the  ^tory 
of  an  Pendent  House 


By 

Anthony  Hope 


^^.im.^ 


New     \  0  r  k 

McClure,  Phillips  &"  Co 

M   C   M   I 


Copyright,  igoo  and  igoi,  by 
ANTHONY    HOPE   HAWKINS 


First  and  Second  Impressions,  August,  igoi 

Third  and  Fourth  Impressions,  September,  igoi 

Fifth  Impression,  November,  1901 


r73 


A  Table  of  the  Contents 

I.    A  Suppressed  Passage i 

II.    Mr  Cholderton's  Imp lo 

III.  On  Guard 22 

IV.  She  Could  an'  She  Would     ....  34 
V.    The  First  Round 48 

VI.    The  Attraction  of  It 61 

VII.  The  Moment  Draws  Near     ....  74 

VIII.    Duty  and  Mr  Neeld 88 

IX.    The  Man  in  Possession loi 

X.    Behold  the  Heir! 114 

XI.    A  Phantom  by  the  Pool 129 

XII.    Fighters  and  Doubters 143 

XIII.  In  the  Long  Gallery 158 

XIV.  The  Very  Same  Day 173 

XV.  An  Inquisition  Interrupted    ....  190 

XVI.    The  New  Life 205 

[v] 


625467 


A  Table   of  the   Contents 


Page 

XVII.  River  Scenes  and  Bric-a-Brac    .     .  220 

XVIII.  Conspirators  and  a  Crux       .     .     .  233 

XIX.  In   the   Matter   of   Blinkhampton  248 

XX.  The  Tristram   Way  —  A  Specimen  264 


XXI.  The  Persistence  of  Blent 

XXII.  An  Insult  to  the  Blood  . 

XXIII.  A  Decree   of  Banishment 

XXIV.  After  the  End  of  All 
XXV.  There's  the  Lady  Too  ! 

XXVI.  A  Business  Call    .     .     . 

XXVII.  Before  Translation 

XXVIII.  The  Cat  and  the  Bell 

XXIX.  The  Curmudgeon 

XXX.  Till  the  Next  Generation 


279 
296 
312 
328 
342 
358 
375 

391 

407 

420 


[vi] 


Tristram 
of  Blent 


A  Suppressed  Passage 

MR  JENKINSON  NEELD  was  an  elderly 
man  of  comfortable  private  means ;  he  had 
chambers  in  Pall  Mall,  close  to  the  Im- 
perium  Club,  and  his  short  stoutish  figure,  topped  by 
a  chubby  spectacled  face,  might  be  seen  entering  that 
dignified  establishment  every  day  at  lunch  time,  and 
also  at  the  hour  of  dinner  on  the  evenings  when  he 
had  no  invitation  elsewhere.  He  had  once  practised 
at  the  Bar,  and  liked  to  explain  that  he  had  deserted 
his  profession  for  the  pursuit  of  literature.  He  did 
not,  however,  write  on  his  own  account ;  he  edited. 
He  would  edit  anything  provided  there  was  no  great 
public  demand  for  an  edition  of  it.  Regardless  of 
present  favor,  he  appealed  to  posterity — as  gentle- 
men with  private  means  are  quite  entitled  to  do.  Per- 
haps he  made  rather  high  demands  on  posterity ;  but 
that  was  his  business — and  its.  At  any  rate  his  taste 
was  curious  and  his  conscience  acute.  He  was  very 
minute  and  very  scrupulous,  very  painstaking  and 
very  discreet,  in  the  exercise  of  his  duties.  Posterity 
may  perhaps  like  these  qualities  in  an  editor  of  me- 
moirs and  diaries ;  for  such  were  Mr  Neeld's  favorite 
subjects.  Sometimes  he  fell  into  a  sore  struggle  be- 
tween curiosity  and  discretion,  having  impulses  in 
himself  which  he  forbore  to  attribute  to  posterity. 

He  was  in  just  such  a  fix  now — so  he  thought  to 
himself — as  he  perused  the   manuscript   before   him. 

[I] 


Tristram  of  Blent 

It  was  the  Journal  of  his  deceased  friend  Josiah  Chol- 
derton,  sometime  Member  of  Parliament  (in  the  Lib- 
eral interest)  for  the  borough  of  Baxton  in  Yorkshire, 
Commercial  Delegate  to  the  Congress  of  Munich  in 
'64,  and  Inventor  of  the  Hygroxeric  Method  of  Dress- 
ing Wool.  No  wonder  posterity  was  to  be  interested 
in  Cholderton !  Yet  at  times — and  especially  during 
his  visits  to  the  Continent — the  diarist  indulged  him- 
self in  digressions  about  people  he  encountered ;  and 
these  assumed  now  and  then  a  character  so  personal, 
or  divulged  episodes  so  private,  that  the  editor  had 
recourse  to  his  blue  pencil  and  drew  it  with  a  sigh 
through  pages  which  he  had  himself  found  no  small 
relief  from  the  severer  record  of  Cholderton's  services 
to  the  commerce  of  his  country.  Mr  Neeld  sat  now 
with  blue  pencil  judicially  poised,  considering  the  fol- 
lowing passage  in  his  friend's  recollections.  The  en- 
try bore  date  Heidelberg,  1875. 

"  At  the  widow's  "  (Mr  Cholderton  is  speaking  of  a 
certain  Madame  de  Kries)  "  pleasant  villa  I  became 
acquainted  with  a  lady  who  made  something  of  a  sen- 
sation in  her  day,  and  whom  I  remember  both  for  her 
own  sake  and  because  of  a  curious  occurrence  con- 
nected with  her.  A  year  and  a  half  before  (or  there- 
abouts) society  had  been  startled  by  the  elopement  of 
Miss  T.  with  Sir  R.  E.  They  were  married,  went  to 
France,  and  lived  together  a  month  or  two.  Suddenly 
Sir  R.  went  ofif  alone;  whose  the  fault  was  nobody 
knew,  or  at  least  it  never  came  to  my  ears.  The  lady 
was  not  long  left  in  solitude,  and,  when  I  met  her,  she 
passed  as  Mrs  F.,  wafe  of  Captain  F.  The  Captain 
seemed  to  me  an  ordinary  good-looking  reckless 
young  fellow ;  but  Mrs  F.  was  a  more  striking  person. 
She  was  tall,  graceful,  and  very  fair,  a  beautiful 
woman  (I  might  rather  say  girl)  beyond  question. 
Talk  revealed  her  as  an  absolute  child  in  a  moral 

[2] 


A  Suppressed  Passage 

sense,  with  a  child's  infinite  candor,  a  child's  infinite 
deceit,  a  child's  love  of  praise,  a  child's  defiance  of 
censure  where  approval  would  be  too  dearly  earned. 
She  was  hardly  a  reasonable  being,  as  we  men  of  the 
world  understand  the  term ;  she  was  however  an  ex- 
ceedingly attractive  creature.  The  natural  feelings  of 
a  woman,  at  least,  were  strong  in  her,  and  she  was 
fretting  over  the  prospects  of  the  baby  who  was  soon 
to  be  born  to  her.  Captain  F.  shared  her  anxiety.  I 
understood  their  feelings  even  more  fully  (in  any  case 
the  situation  was  distressing)  when  I  learnt  from 
Madame  de  Kries  that  in  certain  events  (which  hap- 
pened later)  the  lady  and  her  child  after  her  would 
become  persons  of  rank  and  importance. 

Now  comes  the  scene  which  has  stamped  itself  on 
my  memory.  I  was  sitting  in  Madame  de  Kries'  par- 
lor with  her  and  her  daughter — an  odd  dark  little 
thing,  five  or  six  years  old.  Suddenly  Mrs  F.  came 
in.  She  was  in  a  state  of  agitation  and  excitement  by 
no  means  healthy  (I  should  suppose)  for  one  in  her 
condition.  She  held  a  letter  in  her  hand  and  waved 
it  in  the  air,  crying.  '  Sir  R.'s  dead,  Sir  R.'s  dead !  We 
can  be  married  !  Oh,  we're  in  time,  in  time,  in  time ! ' 
Extraordinary  as  such  exclamations  may  appear  when 
the  circumstances  and  my  own  presence  are  consid- 
ered, I  have  repeated  them  verbatim.  Then  she  sank 
down  on  the  sofa,  Madame  de  Kries  kneeling  by  her, 
while  the  Imp  (as  I  called  the  child,  whom  I  disliked) 
stared  at  her  open-eyed,  wondering  no  doubt  what  the 
fuss  was  about.  Directly  after  F.  came  in,  almost  as 
upset  as  Mrs  F.,  and  the  pair  between  them  managed 
to  explain  to  us  that  she  had  received  a  letter  from  Sir 
R.'s  servant  (with  whom  she  had  apparently  main- 
tained some  communication),  announcing  that  his 
master  had,  after  two  days'  illness,  died  of  heart  com- 
plaint on  the  6th  June.     '  Think  of  the  difference  it 

[3] 


Tristram  of  Blent 

makes,  the  enormous  difference ! '  she  gasped,  jump- 
ing up  again  and  standing  in  the  middle  of  the  room. 
She  was  so  full  of  this  idea  that  she  did  not  spare  a 
thought  to  the  dead  man  or  to  anything  which  might 
strike  us  as  peculiar  or  distasteful  in  her  own  attitude 
and  the  way  in  which  she  received  the  news.  '  We 
shall  be  married  directly,'  she  continued  with  that 
strange  absence  of  shame  or  pretence  which  always 
marked  her,  '  and  then  it'll  be  all  right,  and  nobody'll 
be  able  to  say  a  word  in  the  future.'  She  went  on  in 
this  strain  for  a  long  while,  until  Madame  de  Kries  at 
last  insisted  on  her  calming  herself,  and  proposed  to 
accompany  her  to  her  own  house.  At  this  point  I 
made  my  excuses  and  retired,  the  Imp  following  me 
to  the  door  and  asking  me,  as  I  went  out,  why  people 
had  to  be  married  again  when  other  people  died;  she 
was  a  child  who  needed  wiser  and  firmer  bringing-up 
than  her  mother  gave  her. 

I  did  not  myself  see  Captain  and  Mrs  F.  again,  as 
I  left  Heidelberg  the  next  day,  22nd  June.  I  learnt 
however  from  Madame  de  Kries  that  the  wedding  was 
hurried  on  and  took  place  on  the  day  following  my  de- 
parture ;  after  this  the  pair  went  to  Baden,  and  there, 
a  fortnight  later,  the  child— a  boy — was  born.  I  must 
confess  that  I  was  glad  the  young  couple  had  avoided 
the  calamity  they  were  in  dread  of,  although  I  am  not 
sure  that  I  had  a  right  to  wish  that  they  should  escape 
the  full  consequences  of  their  fault. 

My  feelings  were  abruptly  changed  when,  on  pay- 
ing a  flying  visit  to  Madame  de  Kries  a  few  months 
later,  I  heard  the  sequel  of  the  story,  told  to  me  in  the 
strictest  confidence,  and  in  violation,  I  fear,  of  the  old 
lady's  pledge  of  secrecy.  (She  was  a  sad  gossip,  a 
failing  with  which  I  have  no  sympathy.)  Si-r  R.  E.  did 
not,  in  fact,  die  on  the  date  reported.  He  fell  into  a 
collapse,  mistaken  for  death  by  those  about  him,  and 

[4] 


A  Suppressed  Passage 

even  by  his  medical  attendant ;  after  lying  in  this 
state  for  twenty-four  hours  he  revived  and  lived  nearly 
a  week  longer.  A  second  letter,  apprising  Mrs  F.  of 
this  fact,  and  announcing  the  correct  date  of  his  death 
as  June  12th,  reached  her  at  Baden  on  the  28th.  By 
this  time  she  was  married,  but  the  validity  of  her  new 
union  (solemnized  on  the  23rd)  did  not  appear  to  be 
affected.  Nothing  more  was  done,  and  the  boy  was 
born,  as  I  have  stated,  early  in  July.  Only  after  this 
event,  which  naturally  engrossed  the  parents'  atten- 
tion, did  the  mistake  into  which  they  had  fallen  come 
to  be  discovered.  As  a  matter  of  form,  and  to  avoid 
doubts  in  the  future,  Captain  F.  wrote  for  the  official 
certificate  of  Sir  R.'s  death.  When  it  came,  it  came 
as  a  thunderbolt.  Sir  R.  had  been  residing  in  a  small 
Russian  town  near  the  frontier ;  he  was  interested,  I 
understood,  in  some  business  there.  The  servant  to 
whom  I  have  referred  was  an  uneducated  man  and 
could  not  write ;  he  had  picked  up  a  little  French  but 
spoke  no  Russian.  Wishing  to  inform  Mrs  F.  of  what 
had  occurred,  he  had  recourse  to  a  professional  letter- 
writer,  who  perhaps  knew  as  little  French,  or  almost 
as  little,  as  himself,  and  was  entirely  ignorant  of  Eng- 
lish. The  servant  gave  the  dates  I  have  set  down — 
June  6th  in  the  first  letter,  the  12th  in  the  second.  The 
letter-writer  put  them  down ;  and  Mrs  F.  read  and 
immediately  accepted  them.  It  did  not  cross  her 
mind  or  Captain  F.'s  that  the  dates  used  were  the 
ordinary  Russian  dates — were  in  fact  '  Old  Style,'  and 
consequently  twelve  days  behind  the  reckoning  of 
Germany  or  of  England.  They  might  have  been  put 
on  inquiry  by  the  long  interval  between  the  date  of 
the  death  as  it  was  given  and  the  receipt  of  the  news; 
in  their  excitement  they  paid  no  heed  to  it,  and  it 
did  not  occur  either  to  Madame  de  Kries  or  to  myself 
to  raise  the  question.    Indeed  who  thinks  of  the  '  Old 

[5] 


Tristram   of  Blent 

Style'  at  this  period  of  the  world's  history?  Besides, 
I  did  not  know  at  that  time,  and  I  do  not  think  that 
Madame  de  Kries  did,  where  the  first  letter  came 
from ;  Mrs  F.  said  nothing  about  it.  But  when  the 
certificate  arrived — about  the  middle  of  July,  as  I  un- 
derstood— the  mistake  was  clear;  for  a  note  in  the 
official's  hand  translated  the  dates  into  New  Style  for 
the  benefit  of  the  foreigners  to  whom  he  was  supply- 
ing the  document.  Sir  R.  E.,  first  reported  dead  on 
June  6th  Old  Style,  otherwise  June  i8th  New  Style, 
had  actually  died  on  the  12th  Old  Style,  or  24th  New 
Style. 

I  have  always  thought  this  one  of  the  most  per- 
verse little  incidents  which  I  have  met  with  in  the 
course  of  my  life,  and  I  think  it  such  still,  when  I  con- 
sider how  easily  it  might  have  done  no  harm,  and  how 
serious,  and  indeed  irreparable,  its  actual  conse- 
quences were.  The  mistake  as  to  the  date  of  death 
was  the  first  source  of  confusion,  since  it  caused  Mrs 
F.'s  wedding  to  take  place  while  her  husband.  Sir  R., 
had  still  a  day  to  live.  But  this  error  would  not  in  it- 
self have  proved  fatal,  since  there  would  still  have  been 
time  to  repeat  the  ceremony  and  make  a  valid  mar- 
riage of  it  before  the  birth  of  the  child.  Here  the 
misapprehension  about  the  Old  Style  came  in.  Led 
to  believe  that,  although  Sir  R.  lived  six  days  longer 
than  was  originally  reported,  yet  none  the  less  he  died 
on  June  12th,  the  F.'s  did  not  have  the  ceremony  re- 
peated. But  he  died,  in  fact,  on  the  24th  as  his  wife 
reckoned  time,  and  her  wedding  to  Captain  F.  on  the 
23rd  was  an  idle  and  useless  form.  When  the  dis- 
covery was  made,  the  boy  was  born — and  born  out 
of  lawful  wedlock. 

What  did  they  do  then?  I  was  pardonably  inter- 
ested in  the  matter,  and  inquired  of  Madame  de  Kries. 
She  was  reticent,  but  I  extracted  from  her  the  informa- 

[6] 


A  Suppressed  Passage 

tion  that  they  were  hurriedly  married  again.  One 
could  laugh  if  the  matter  had  not  been  so  terribly  seri- 
ous to  them  and  to  their  boy.  For  by  now  those  events 
had  actually  happened,  and  Mrs  F.  was  not  indeed  in 
possession  of  but  next  in  succession  to  a  considerable 
estate  and  an  ancient  title.  Marrying  again  could  not 
mend  the  matter.  What  else  they  did  to  mend  or  try 
to  mend  it,  Madame  de  Kries  professed  not  to  know. 
I  myself  do  not  know  either.  There  is  only  one  thing 
to  say.  They  could  not  alter  the  date  of  the  death ; 
they  could  not  alter  the  date  of  the  wedding ;  per- 
haps it  would  seem  rather  more  possible  to  alter  the 
date  of  the  birth.  At  any  rate,  that  is  no  business  of 
mine.  I  have  set  the  story  down  because  it  seemed 
a  curious  and  interesting  episode,  but  it  is  nothing  to 
me  who  succeeds  or  ought  to  succeed  to  this  or  that 
title  or  estate.  For  my  own  part,  I  am  inclined  to 
hope  that  the  baby's  prospects  in  life  will  not  be 
wrecked  by  the  absurd  Russian  habit  of  using  the  Old 
Style. 

To  return  to  serious  questions,  the  customs-barrier 
between " 

Mr  Jenkinson  Neeld  laid  down  his  friend's  Journal 
and  leant  back  in  his  chair. 

"  Really !  "  he  murmured  to  himself.  "  Really, 
really !  " 

Frowning  in  a  perplexed  fashion,  he  pushed  the 
manuscript  aside  and  twiddled  the  blue  pencil  between 
his  fingers.  The  customs-barrier  of  which  Josiah 
Cholderton  was  about  to  speak  had  no  power  to  in- 
terest him.  The  story  which  he  had  read  interested 
him  a  good  deal ;  it  was  an  odd  little  bit  of  human  his- 
tory, a  disastrous  turn  of  human  fortunes.  Besides, 
Mr  Neeld  knew  his  London.  He  shook  his  head  at 
the  Journal  reprovingly,  rose  from  his  chair,  went  to 
his  book-case,  and  took  down  a  Peerage.    A  reminis- 

[7] 


Tristram  of  Blent 

cence  was  running'  in  his  head.  He  turned  to  the  let- 
ter T  (Ah,  tliose  hollowly  discreet,  painfully  indiscreet 
initials  of  Josiah  Cholderton's !  Mysteries  perhaps  in 
Baxton,  Yorks,  but  none  in  Pall  Mall !)  and  searched 
the  pages.  This  was  the  entry  at  which  his  finger 
stopped — or  rather  part  of  the  entry,  for  the  volume 
had  more  to  say  on  the  family  than  it  is  needful  either 
to  believe  or  to  repeat : — 

"  Tristram  of  Blent — Adelaide  Louisa  Aimee,  in  her 
own  right  Baroness — 23rd  in  descent,  the  barony  de- 
scending to  heirs  general.  Born  17th  December  1853. 
Married  first  Sir  Randolph  Edge,  Bart. — no  issue. 
Secondly,  Captain  Henry  Vincent  Fitzhubert  (late 
Scots  Guards),  died  1877.  Issue — one  son  (and  heir) 
Hon.  Henry  Austen  Fitzhubert  Tristram,  born  20th 
July  1875.  The  name  of  Tristram  was  assumed  in  lieu 
of  Fitzhubert  by  Royal  Licence  1884.  Seat — Blent 
Hall,  Devon " 

Here  Mr  Neeld  laid  down  the  book.  He  had  seen 
what  he  wanted,  and  had  no  further  concern  with  the 
ancestry,  the  ramifications,  the  abodes  or  possessions 
of  the  Tristrams  of  Blent.  To  him  who  knew,  the  en- 
try itself  was  expressive  in  what  it  said  and  in  what  it 
omitted  ;  read  in  conjunction  with  Josiah  Cholderton's 
Journal  it  was  yet  more  eloquent.  By  itself  it  hinted 
a  scandal — else  why  no  dates  for  the  marriages  ?  With 
the  Journal  it  said  something  more.  For  the  20th  is 
not  "  early  in  July."  Yet  Mr  Neeld  had  never 
heard — !  He  shut  the  book  hastily  and  put  it  back 
on  the  shelf.  Returning  to  his  desk,  he  took  up  the 
blue  pencil.  But  on  second  thoughts  this  instrument 
did  not  content  him.  Scissors  were  to  his  hand  ;  with 
them  he  carefully  cut  out  from  the  manuscript  the 
whole  account  of  Mr  Cholderton's  visit  to  Heidelberg 


A   Suppressed  Passage 

(he  would  run  no  risks,  and  there  was  nothing  im- 
portant in  it),  dated  it,  marked  it  with  the  page  to 
which  it  belonged  in  the  Journal,  and  locked  it  away 
in  a  drawer. 

He  felt  resentful  toward  his  dead  friend  Josiah  Chol- 
derton.  If  there  be  a  safe  pastime,  one  warranted  to 
lead  a  man  into  no  trouble  and  to  entangle  him  in  no 
scandals,  it  would  seem  to  lie  in  editing  the  Journal 
of  a  Member  of  Parliament,  a  Commercial  Delegate, 
an  Inventor  of  the  Hygroxeric  Method  of  Dressing 
Wool.  Josiah  Cholderton  had — not  quite  for  the  first 
time — played  him  false.  But  never  so  badly  as  this 
before ! 

"  Good  gracious  me !  "  he  muttered.  "  The  thing  is 
nothing  more  nor  less  than  an  imputation  on  the  legit- 
imacy of  the  son  and  heir !  " 

That  same  afternoon  he  went  over  to  the  Imperium 
to  vote  at  the  election  of  members.  It  struck  him  as 
one  of  the  small  coincidences  of  life  that  among  the 
candidates  who  faced  the  ballot  was  a  Colonel  Wil- 
mot  Edge,  R.E. 

"  Any  relation,  I  wonder?  "  mused  Mr  Neeld  as  he 
dropped  in  an  affirmative  ball.  But  it  may  be  added, 
since  not  even  the  secrets  of  club  ballots  are  to  be 
held  sacred,  that  he  bestowed  one  of  a  different  sort 
on  a  certain  Mr  William  Iver,  who  was  described  as 
a  "  Contractor,"  and  whose  name  was  familiar  and 
conspicuous  on  the  hoardings  that  screened  new  build- 
ings in  London,  and  was  consequently  objectionable 
to  Mr  Neeld's  fastidious  mind. 

"  I  don't  often  l)lackball,"  he  remarked  to  Lord 
Southend  as  they  were  sitting  down  to  whist,  "  but, 
really,  don't  you  think  the  Imperium  should  maintain 
— er — a  certain  level  ?  " 

"  Tver's  a  devilish  rich  fellow  and  not  a  bad  fellow 
either,"  grunted  my  lord. 

[9] 


II 

Mr  Cholderton's  Imp 

•''"It  TES,  madame,  an  elegant  and  spacious  resi- 
^  dence,  Filton  Park.  The  photo?  Here  it  is, 
M  madame.  And  Notts  is  a  very  eligible  coun- 
ty— socially  speaking,  remarkably  eligible ;  I've  sent 
several  families  to  Notts.  That  photo,  madame? 
Hatchley  Manor,  in  Sussex.  Yes,  good  position — a 
trifle  low  perhaps — I  have  heard  complaints  of — er — ■ 
effluvium  from  the  river — I'm  anxious  to  give  you  per- 
fect satisfaction,  madame.  It  wouldn't  pay  me  not  to. 
I  want  you  to  come  back,  madame,  another  summer. 
I  play  for  the  break,  if  I  may  so  put  it — I  beg  your 
pardon !  Yes,  Birdcup  is  really  a  palatial  residence — 
Hants,  yes — a  beautiful  county.  But  between  our- 
selves, madame,  his  lordship  is  a  little  hard  to  deal 
with.  Dilapidations  I  refer  to,  yes — his  lordship  is 
exacting  as  to  dilapidations.  On  the  whole,  I  should 
prefer  to  recommend  Winterhurst — near  Maidstone — 
a  pleasant  town,  Maidstone,  and  the  clergy,  I'm  in- 
formed, extremely  active  and  sympathetic." 

"  It's  a  very  ugly  house,"  remarked  Madame  Za- 
briska,  throwing  away  the  photograph  of  Winterhurst 
with  a  gesture  of  decided  refusal. 

Mr  Sloyd  stroked  his  sleek  hair  and  smiled  depre- 
catingly. 

"  With  residences  as  with — er — ladies,  beauty  is 
only  skin  deep,"  said  he.  "  A  thoroughly  modern  resi- 
dence, madame — hot  and  cold — south  aspect."  He 
stopped  suddenly,  perceiving  that  the  queer  dark  little 
woman  in  the  big  chair  was  laughing  at  him.     "  I 

[10] 


Mr   Cholderton's   Imp 

don't  intend  to  convey,"  he  resumed  with  dignity, 
"  that  the  mansion  is  hot  and  cold,  but  the  bath- 
rooms  " 

"  Oh,  I  know,"  she  interrupted,  her  great  black  eyes 
still  deriding  him,  while  her  thin  face  was  screwed  up 
into  seriousness,  as  she  regarded  Mr  Sloyd's  blameless 
garments  of  springtime  gray,  his  black-and-white  tie, 
his  hair  so  very  sleek,  his  drooping  mustache,  and 
his  pink  cheeks.  She  had  taken  his  measure  as  per- 
fectly as  the  tailor  himself,  and  was  enjoying  the  coun- 
terfeit presentment  of  a  real  London  dandy  who  came 
to  her  in  the  shape  of  a  house-agent.  "  I  don't  want 
a  big  place,"  she  explained  in  EngHsh,  with  a  foreign 
touch  about  it.  "  There's  only  myself  and  my  uncle, 
Major  Duplay — he'll  be  in  directly,  I  expect — and 
we've  no  more  money  than  we  want,  Mr  Sloyd." 

Sloyd's  eyes  wandered  round  the  large  and  hand- 
some sitting-room  in  Berridge's  Hotel,  where  he 
found  his  client  established. 

"  Oh,  it  doesn't  matter  for  a  few  days,"  she  added, 
detecting  his  idea  and  smiling  again. 

This  explanation  of  her  position  had  the  efTect  of 
making  Sloyd's  manner  rather  less  florid  and  his  lan- 
guage less  flowery. 

"  Among  second-class  but  eminently  genteel  resi- 
dences," he  began,  "  I  could  confidently  recom- 
mend  " 

"Where's  this?"  she  interrupted,  picking  up  an- 
other photograph,  and  regarding  it  with  apparent  lik- 
ing. Looking  at  the  foot,  she  read  aloud,  "  Merrion 
Lodge,  property  of  the  Right  Honorable  Baroness 
Tristram  of  Blent."    She  looked  up  sharply  at  Sloyd. 

"  Ye-es,  ye-es,"  said  Sloyd,  without  much  enthu- 
siasm. "  A  very  pretty  neighborhood — a  few  miles 
from  Blentmouth — rising  place,  Blentmouth.  And 
it's  a  cheap  house — small,  you  see,  and  old-fashioned." 

[Ill 


Tristram  of  Blent 

"  Not  hot  and  cold  ?  "  she  asked  with  apparent  inno- 
cence. 

Sloyd  smiled  uncomfortably.  "  I  could  ascertain  all 
that  for  you,  madame." 

He  waited  for  her  to  speak  again,  but  she  had  turned 
thoughtful  as  she  sat  fingering  the  photograph.  Pres- 
ently she  smiled  again  and  said,  "  Yes,  find  out  about 
Merrion  Lodge  for  me,  Mr  Sloyd." 

He  began  to  gather  up  his  pictures  and  papers. 

"  Is  Baron  Tristram  alive?"  she  asked  suddenly. 

Sloyd  recovered  his  air  of  superiority. 

"  Her  ladyship  is  a  peeress  in  her  own  right,"  he  ex- 
plained. 

"  She's  not  married  then?  " 

"  A  widow,  madame." 

"  And  wasn't  her  husband  Baron  Tristram?" 

"  Her  husband  would  not  have  been  Lord— excuse 
me,  madame,  we  say  Lord — Tristram  of  Blent.  Her 
son  will  succeed  to  the  title,  of  course.  The  family 
reside  at  Blent  Hall,  only  a  few  hundred  yards  from 
Merrion  Lodge,  a  picturesque  mansion  in  the  valley. 
The  Lodge,  you  perceive,  stands  high." 

"  I  don't  understand  the  family  arrangements,"  re- 
marked Madame  Zabriska,  "  but  I  daresay  I  shall 
learn  it  all  if  I  go." 

"  If  you  had  a  '  Peerage,'  madame "  he  sug- 
gested, being  himself  rather  vague  about  the  mysteries 
of  a  barony  by  writ. 

"  I'll  get  one  from  the  waiter  presently.  Good- 
morning,  Mr  Sloyd." 

Sloyd  was  making  his  bow  when  the  door  opened 
and  a  man  came  in.  He  was  tall,  erect,  and  good- 
looking.  Both  air  and  manner  were  youthful,  al- 
though perhaps  with  a  trace  of  artifice ;  he  would  pass 
for  thirty-five  on  a  casual  glance,  but  not  after  a  longer 
one. 

[12] 


Mr   Cholderton's  Imp 

"  My  uncle,  Major  Duplay,"  said  the  little  woman. 
"  This  is  Mr  Sloyd,  who's  come  about  the  house, 
uncle." 

Duplay  greeted  the  house-agent  with  grave  cour- 
tesy, and  entered  into  conversation  with  him,  while 
Madame  Zabriska,  relapsed  again  into  an  alert  silence, 
watched  the  pair. 

The  last  thing  that  Madame  Zabriska — the  style  sat 
oddly  on  her  child-like  face  and  figure,  but  Mina  Za- 
briska at  the  age  of  twenty-eight  had  been  a  widow 
three  years — desired  to  do  was  harm  ;  the  thing  she 
best  loved  to  make  was  mischief.  The  essence  of  mis- 
chief lay  for  her — perhaps  for  everybody — in  curiosity  ; 
it  was  to  put  people  in  the  situations  in  which  they 
least  expected  to  find  themselves,  and  to  observe  how 
they  comported  themselves  therein.  As  for  hurting 
their  interests  or  even  their  feelings — no ;  she  was 
certain  that  she  did  not  want  that ;  was  she  not  al- 
ways terribly  sorry  when  that  happened,  as  it  some- 
times, and  quite  unaccountably,  did?  She  would 
weep  then — but  for  their  misfortune,  be  it  understood, 
not  for  any  fault  of  hers.  People  did  not  always  un- 
derstand her;  her  mother  had  understood  her  per- 
fectly, and  consequently  had  never  interfered  with  her 
ways.  Mina  loved  a  mystification  too,  and  especially 
to  mystify  uncle  Duplay,  who  thought  himself  so 
clever — was  clever  indeed  as  men  went,  she  acknowl- 
edged generously;  but  men  did  not  go  far.  It  would 
be  fun  to  choose  Mcrrion  Lodge  for  her  summer  home, 
first  because  her  uncle  would  wonder  why  in  the  world 
she  took  it,  and  secondly  because  she  had  guessed  that 
somebody  might  be  surprised  to  see  her  there.  So 
she  laid  her  plan,  even  as  she  had  played  her  tricks 
in  the  days  when  she  was  an  odd  little  girl,  and  Mr 
Choldcrton,  not  liking  her,  had  with  some  justice 
christened  her  the  Imp. 

[13] 


Tristram  of  Blent 

Major  Duplay  bowed  Mr  Sloyd  to  the  door  with 
the  understanding  that  full  details  of  Merrion  Lodge 
were  to  be  furnished  in  a  day  or  two.  Coming  back 
to  the  hearth-rug  he  spoke  to  his  niece  in  French,  as 
was  the  custom  with  the  pair  when  they  were  alone. 

"  And  now,  dear  Mina,"  said  he,  "  what  has  made 
you  set  your  mind  on  what  seems  distinctly  the  least 
desirable  of  these  houses  ?  " 

"It's  the  cheapest,  I  expect,  and  I  want  to  econo- 


mize." 


"  People  always  do  as  soon  as  they've  got  any 
money,"  reflected  Duplay  in  a  puzzled  tone.  "  If  you 
were  on  half-pay  as  I  am,  you'd  never  want  to  do  it." 

"  Well,  I've  another  reason."  This  was  already  say- 
ing more  than  she  had  meant  to  say. 

"  Which  you  don't  mean  to  tell  me?  " 

"  Certainly  not." 

With  a  shrug  he  took  out  his  cigarette-case  and 
handed  it  to  her. 

"  You  and  your  secrets ! "  he  exclaimed  good- 
humoredly.  "  Really,  Mina,  I  more  than  earn  my 
keep  by  the  pleasure  I  give  you  in  not  telling  me 
things.    And  then  you  go  and  do  it !  " 

"  Shan't  this  time,"  said  Mr  Cholderton's  Imp, 
seeming  not  a  day  more  than  ten,  in  spite  of  her  smok- 
ing cigarette  and  her  smart  costume. 

"  Luckily  I'm  not  curious — and  I  can  trust  you  to 
do  nothing  wrong." 

"  Well,  I  suppose  so,"  she  agreed  with  scornful  com- 
posure. ''  Did  you  ever  hear  mother  speak  of  a  Mrs 
Fitzhubert  ?  " 

The  major  smiled  under  his  heavy  mustache  as  he 
answered,  "  Never." 

"  Well,  I  have,"  said  Mina  with  a  world  of  signifi- 
cance. "  I  heard  her  first  through  the  door,"  she 
added  with  a  candid  smile.    "  I  was  listening." 

[14] 


Mr   Cholderton's  Imp 

"  You  often  were  in  those  days." 

"  Oh,  I  am  still — but  on  the  inside  of  the  door  now. 
And  she  told  me  about  it  afterward  of  her  own  ac- 
cord.    But  it  wouldn't  interest  you,  uncle." 

"  Not  in  its  present  stage  of  revelation,"  he  agreed, 
with  a  little  yawn. 

"  The  funny  old  Englishman — you  never  saw  him, 
did  you? — Mr  Cholderton — he  knew  her.  He  rather 
admired  her  too.     He  was  there  when  she  rushed  in 

and Never  mind  !    I  was  there  too — such  a  guy  ! 

I  had  corkscrew  curls,  you  know,  and  a  very  short 
frock,  and  very  long — other  things.  Oh,  those  frills ! 
— And  I  suppose  I  really  was  the  ugliest  child  ever 
born.  Old  Cholderton  hated  me — he'd  have  liked  to 
box  my  ears,  I  know.  But  I  think  he  was  a  little  in 
love  with  Mrs  Fitzhubert.  Oh,  I've  never  asked  for 
that  '  Peerage  ! '  " 

Major  Duplay  had  resigned  himself  to  a  patient  en- 
durance of  inadequate  hints.  His  wits  were  not  equal 
to  putting  together  the  pieces  or  conducting  a  sort  of 
"  missing  word,"  or  missing  link,  exercise  to  a  trium- 
phant issue.  In  time  he  would  know  all — supposing, 
that  is,  that  there  were  really  anything  to  know. 
Meanwhile  he  was  not  curious  about  other  people's 
afifairs  ;  he  minded  his  own  business.  Keeping  young 
occupied  much  of  his  time ;  and  then  there  was  always 
the  question  of  how  it  might  prove  possible  to  supple- 
ment the  half-pay  to  which  his  years  of  service  in  the 
Swiss  Army  entitled  him  ;  it  was  scanty,  and  but  for 
his  niece's  hospitality  really  insufficient.  He  thought 
that  he  was  a  clever  man,  he  had  remained  an  honest 
man,  and  he  saw  no  reason  why  Fortune  should  not 
some  day  make  him  a  comfortable  man  ;  she  had  never 
done  so  yet,  having  sent  him  into  the  world  as  the 
fifth  child  of  a  Protestant  pastor  in  a  French-speaking 
canton,  and  never  having  given  him  so  much  as  a  well- 

[15] 


Tristram  of  Blent 

to-do  relative  (even  Madame  de  Kries'  villa  was  on  a 
modest  scale)  until  Mina  married  Adolf  Zabriska  and 
kept  that  gentleman's  money  although  she  had  the 
misfortune  to  lose  his  company.  His  death  seemed 
to  Duplay  at  least  no  great  calamity ;  that  he  had  died 
childless  did  not  appear  to  have  disappointed  Mina 
and  was  certainly  no  ground  of  complaint  on  her  un- 
cle's part. 

Presumably  Mr  Sloyd's  inquiries  elicited  satisfac- 
tory information;  perhaps  Mina  was  not  hard  to 
please.  At  all  events,  a  week  later  she  and  the  Major 
got  out  at  Blentmouth  station  and  found  Sloyd  him- 
self waiting  to  drive  with  them  to  Merrion  Lodge ;  he 
had  insisted  on  seeing  them  installed ;  doubtless  he 
was,  as  he  put  it,  playing  for  the  break  again.  He 
sat  in  the  landau  with  his  back  to  the  horses  and 
pointed  out  the  features  of  interest  on  the  road ;  his 
couple  of  days'  stay  in  the  neighborhood  seemed  to 
have  made  him  an  old  inhabitant. 

"  Five  hundred  population  five  years  ago,"  he  ob- 
served, waving  his  hand  over  Blentmouth  in  patroniz- 
ing encouragement.  "  Two  thousand  winter,  three 
five  summer  months  now — largely  due  to  William 
Iver,  Esquire,  of  Fairholme — we  shall  pass  Fairholme 
directly — a  wealthy  gentleman  who  takes  great  inter- 
est in  the  development  of  the  town." 

It  was  all  Greek  to  the  Major,  but  he  nodded  po- 
litely.    Mina  was  looking  about  her  with  keen  eyes. 

"  That's  Fairholme,"  Sloyd  went  on,  as  they  came 
to  a  large  and  rather  new  house  situated  on  the  skirts 
of  Blentmouth.  "  Observe  the  glass — those  houses 
cost  thousands  of  pounds — grows  peaches  all  the 
year,  they  tell  me.  At  this  point,  Madame  Zabriska, 
we  turn  and  pursue  the  road  by  the  river."  And  so 
he  ceased  not  to  play  guide-book  till  he  landed  them 
at  the  door  of  Merrion  Lodge  itself,  after  a  slow  crawl 

[i6] 


Mr   Cholderton's  Imp 

of  a  quarter  of  a  mile  uphill.  Below  them  in  the  val- 
ley lay  the  Httle  Blent,  sparkling  in  the  sunshine  of  a 
summer  afternoon,  and  beyond  the  river,  facing  them 
on  the  opposite  bank,  no  more  perhaps  than  five  hun- 
dred yards  away,  was  Blent  Hall.  Mina  ran  to  the 
parapet  of  the  levelled  terrace  on  which  the  Lodge 
stood,  and  looked  down.  Blent  Hall  made  three  sides 
of  a  square  of  old  red-brick  masonry,  with  a  tower  in 
the  centre ;  it  faced  the  river,  and  broad  gravel-walks 
and  broader  lawns  of  level  close-shaven  turf  ran  down 
to  the  water's  edge. 

"  Among  the  minor  seats  of  the  nobility  Blent  is 
considered  a  very  perfect  example,"  she  heard  Sloyd 
say  to  the  Major,  who  was  unobtrusively  but  stead- 
ily urging  him  in  the  direction  of  the  landau.  She 
tiirncd  to  bid  him  good-by,  and  he  came  up  to  her, 
hat  in  hand. 

"  Thank  you.  I  like  the  place."  she  said.  "  Do  you 
— do  you  think  we  shall  make  acquaintance  with  the 
people  at  Blent  Hall?" 

"  Her  ladyship's  in  poor  health,  I  hear,  but  I  should 
imagine  she  would  make  an  efifort  to  call  or  at  least 
send  cards.    Good-by,  madamc." 

Duplay  succeeded  in  starting  the  zealous  man  on  his 
homeward  journey  and  then  went  into  the  house, 
Mina  remaining  still  outside,  engaged  in  the  contem- 
plation of  her  new  surroundings,  above  all  of  Blent 
Hall,  which  was  invested  with  a  special  interest  for 
her  eyes.     It  was  the  abode  of  Mrs  Fitzhubert. 

With  a  little  start  she  turned  to  find  a  young  man 
standing  just  on  the  other  side  of  the  parapet ;  she 
had  not  noticed  his  approach  till  he  had  given  a  low 
cough  to  attract  her  attention.  As  he  raised  his  hat 
her  quick  vision  took  him  in  as  it  were  in  a  complete 
picture — the  thin  yet  well-made  body,  the  slight  stoop 
in  the  shoulders,  the  high  forehead  bordered  with  thick 

[17] 


Tristram   of  Blent 

dark  hair  growing  in  such  a  shape  that  the  brow- 
seemed  to  rise  almost  to  a  peak,  a  long  nose,  a  sensi- 
tive month,  a  pointed  chin,  dark  eyes  with  downward 
lids.  The  young  man — she  would  have  guessed  him  at 
twenty-two  or  three — had  a  complete  composure  of 
manner;  somehow  she  felt  herself  in  the  presence  of 
the  lord  of  the  soil — an  absurd  thing  to  feel,  she  told 
herself. 

"Madame  Zabriska?  My  mother,  Lady  Tristram, 
has  sent  me  to  bid  you  welcome  in  her  name,  but  not 
to  disturb  you  by  coming  in  so  soon  after  your  jour- 
ney. It  is  our  tradition  to  welcome  guests  at  the  mo- 
ment of  their  arrival." 

He  spoke  rather  slowly,  in  a  pleasant  voice,  but  with 
something  in  his  air  that  puzzled  Mina.  It  seemed 
like  a  sort  of  watchfulness — not  a  slyness  (that  would 
have  fitted  so  badly  with  the  rest  of  him),  but  perhaps 
one  might  say  a  wariness — whether  directed  against 
her  or  himself  it  was  too  soon  for  her  even  to  con- 
jecture. 

Still  rather  startled,  she  forgot  to  express  her 
thanks,  and  said  simply : 

"  You're  Mr  Fitzhubert  Tristram?  " 

"  Mr  Tristram,"  he  corrected  her ;  and  she  noticed 
now  for  the  first  time  the  slow-moving  smile  which 
soon  became  his  leading  characteristic  in  her  thoughts. 
It  took  such  a  time  to  spread,  it  seemed  to  feel  its 
way ;  but  it  was  a  success  when  it  came.  "  I  use  my 
father's  name  only  as  a  Christian  name  now.  Tristram 
is  my  surname ;  that  also,  if  I  may  repeat  myself,  is 
one  of  our  traditions." 

"What,  to  change  your  names?  The  men,  I 
mean?"  she  asked,  laughing  a  little. 

"  For  anybody  in  the  direct  line  to  take  the  name 
of  Tristram — so  that,  in  spite  of  the  failure  of  male 
heirs  from  time  to  time,  the  Tristrams  of  Blent  should 

[i8] 


Mr   Cholderton^s  Imp 

always  be  Tristrams,  you  know,  and  not  Fitzhuberts, 
or  Leighs,  or  Merrions " 

"  Merrion  ?  " 

"  My  great-great — I  forget  how  many  greats — 
grandfather  was  a  Merrion  and " 

"  Built  this  house?  " 

"  Oh,  no — a  house  where  this  stands.  The  old 
house  was  burnt  down  in  '95." 

"As  recently  as  that?"  she  exclaimed  in  surprise. 

"  1795,"  he  explained,  "  and  this  house  was  run  up 
then." 

Mina  felt  that  there  was  here  a  touch  of  pride ;  with 
a  more  complete  mastery  of  idiomatic  English  she 
might  have  called  it  "  swagger."  Nothing  counted 
that  was  less  than  a  century  old,  it  seemed,  and  he 
spoke  of  a  house  of  a  hundred  years'  standing  as  she 
might  of  a  wooden  shanty.  Decidedly  he  was  con- 
scious of  his  position — over-conscious. 

"  I'm  glad  it  was  run  up  in  time  for  us  to  take  it," 
she  said,  thinking  she  would  try  the  effect  of  a  little 
chaff. 

The  effect  was  nothing;  Harry  Tristram  took  no 
notice  of  the  remark. 

"  I  see,"  he  observed,  "  from  your  calling  me  Fitz- 
hubcrt  that  you've  been  looking  up  our  recent  his- 
tory." 

"  Oh,  just  what  there  is  in  the  '  Peerage.'  "  Her 
look  was  mischievous  now,  but  she  restrained  herself 
from  any  hint  of  special  knowledge.  "  I'll  tell  you  as 
much  of  ours  some  day." 

She  broke  into  a  laugh,  and  then,  carried  away  by 
the  beauty  of  the  scene,  the  river  and  the  stately  peace- 
ful old  house  by  it,  she  stretched  out  her  hands  toward 
Blent  Hall,  exclaiming: 

"  But  we  haven't  anything  like  that  in  our  his- 
tory!" 

[19] 


Tristram  of  Blent 

He  turned  to  look  with  her,  and  stood  in  silence  for 
a  minute  or  two.    Then  he  spoke  softly. 

"  Yes,  I  love  it,"  he  said. 

She  glanced  at  him ;  his  eyes  were  tender.  Turn- 
ing, he  saw  her  glance.  In  a  moment  he  seemed  to 
veil  his  eyes  and  to  try  to  excuse  the  sentimental  tone 
of  his  remark  by  a  matter-of-fact  comment : 

"  But  of  course  a  man  comes  to  like  a  place  when 
he's  been  accustomed  to  think  of  it  as  his  home  for 
all  his  life  past  and  to  come." 

"  What  would  you  do  if  you  lost  it  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  I've  no  intention  of  losing  it,"  he  answered,  laugh- 
ing, but  looking  again  from  her  and  toward  his  home. 
"  We've  had  it  six  hundred  years ;  we  shan't  lose  it 
now,  I  think." 

"  No,  I  suppose  not."  He  was  holding  out  his 
hand.  "  Good-by,  Mr  Tristram.  May  I  come  and 
thank  your  mother?" 

"  Oh,  but  she'll  come  here,  if  she's  well  enough." 

"  I'll  save  her  the  journey  up  the  hill." 

He  bowed  in  courteous  acceptance  of  her  offer  as 
he  shook  hands. 

"  You  see  the  foot-bridge  over  the  river  there  ? 
There's  a  gate  at  each  end,  but  the  gates  are  never 
locked,  so  you  can  reach  us  from  the  road  that  way 
if  you're  walking.  If  you  want  to  drive,  you  must 
go  a  quarter  of  a  mile  higher  up,  just  below  the  Pool. 
Good-by,  Madame  Zabriska." 

Mina  watched  him  all  the  way  down  the  hill.  He 
had  made  an  impression  on  her — an  intellectual  im- 
pression, not  a  sentimental  one.  There  was  nothing 
of  the  boy  about  him,  unless  it  were  in  that  little 
flourish  over  the  antiquity  of  his  house  and  its  sur- 
roundings ;  even  that  might  be  the  usual  thing — she 
had  not  seen  enough  of  his  class  to  judge.  There  was 
too  that  love  of  the  place  which  he  had  shown.    Lastly, 

[20] 


Mr   Cholderton's   Imp 

there  was  the  odd  air  of  wariness  and  watching ;  such 
it  seemed  to  her,  and  it  consented  to  seem  nothing 
else. 

"  I  wonder,"  she  thought,  "  if  he  knows  anything 
about  Mrs  Fitzhubert — and  I  wonder  if  it  would  make 
any  difference  to  him  !  "  Memory  carried  her  back  in 
an  instant  to  the  moment  when  she,  Mr  Cholderton's 
Imp,  heard  that  beautiful  woman  cry,  "  Think  of  the 
difference  it  makes,  the  enormous  difference !  "  She 
drew  in  her  breath  in  a  sudden  gasp.  An  idea  had 
flashed  into  her  mind,  showing  her  for  the  first  time 
the  chance  of  a  situation  which  had  never  yet  crossed 
her  thoughts. 

"  Good  gracious,  is  it  possible  that  he  couldn't  keep 
it,  or  that  his  mother  couldn't  give  it  to  him,  all  the 
same?  " 


[21] 


Ill 

On    Guard 

HARRY  TRISTRAM  was  just  on  twenty- 
three  ;  to  others,  and  to  himself  too  perhaps 
(if  a  man  himself  can  attain  any  clear  view), 
he  seemed  older.  Even  the  externals  of  his  youth 
had  differed  from  the  common  run.  Sent  to  school 
like  other  boys,  he  had  come  home  from  Harrow  one 
Easter  for  the  usual  short  holiday.  He  had  never  re- 
turned ;  he  had  not  gone  to  the  University ;  he  had 
been  abroad  a  good  deal,  travelling  and  studying,  but 
always  in  his  mother's  company.  It  was  known  that 
she  was  in  bad  health ;  it  was  assumed  that  either  she 
was  very  exacting  or  he  very  devoted,  since  to  sepa- 
rate him  from  her  appeared  impossible.  Yet  those 
who  observed  them  together  saw  no  imperiousness 
on  her  part  and  no  excess  of  sentiment  on  his.  Friend- 
liness based  on  a  thorough  sympathy  of  mind  was  his 
attitude  if  his  demeanor  revealed  it  truly ;  while 
Lady  Tristram  was  to  her  son  as  she  was  to  all  the 
world  at  this  time,  a  creature  of  feelings  now  half  cold 
and  of  moods  that  reflected  palely  the  intense  impulses 
of  her  youth.  But  a  few  years  over  forty,  she  grew 
faded  and  faint  in  mind,  it  seemed,  as  well  as  in  body, 
and  was  no  longer  a  merry  comrade  to  the  boy  who 
never  left  her.  Yet  he  did  not  wish  to  leave  her.  To 
her,  indeed,  he  was  not  a  boy,  and  nobody  about  the 
place  regarded  him  as  other  than  a  man.  He  had 
been  actually  and  effectively  master  of  the  house  for 
years,  just  as  he  was  master  of  his  own  doings,  of  his 
friendships,  recreations,  and    pursuits.    And   he   had 

[22] 


On  Guard 

managed  all  well,  except  that  he  was  not  thought  to 
be  very  happy  or  to  get  much  enjoyment  from  his  life. 
That  was  just  an  idea  he  gave  of  himself,  and  gave 
involuntarily — in  spite  of  taking  his  fair  share  in  the 
amusements  of  the  neighborhood,  and  holding  his 
own  well  in  its  sports  and  athletics.  But  he  was  con- 
sidered cold  and  very  reserved.  Had  Mina  Zabriska 
remembered  this  use  of  "  reserve,"  perhaps  she  would 
have  employed  the  word  instead  of  "  wariness."  Or 
perhaps,  if  his  acquaintances  had  looked  more  keenly, 
they  would  have  come  over  to  Alina's  side  and  found 
her  term  the  more  accurate.  She  spoke  from  a  fresher 
and  sharper  impression  of  him. 

His  childhood  at  least  had  been  happy,  while  Lady 
Tristram  was  still  the  bewilderingly  delightful  com- 
panion who  had  got  into  so  much  hot  water  and  made 
so  many  people  eager  to  get  in  after  her.  Joy  lasted 
with  her  as  long  as  health  did,  and  her  health  began 
to  fail  only  when  her  son  approached  fifteen.  Another 
thing  happened  about  then,  which  formed  the  prelude 
to  the  most  vivid  scene  in  the  boy's  life.  Lady  Tris- 
tram was  not  habitually  a  religious  woman ;  that 
temper  of  mind  was  too  abstract  for  her ;  she  moved 
among  emotions  and  images,  and  had  small  dealings 
with  meditation  or  spiritual  conceptions.  But  hap- 
pening to  be  in  a  mood  that  laid  her  open  to  the  in- 
fluence, she  heard  in  London  one  day  a  sermon 
preached  by  a  young  man  famous  at  the  time,  a  great 
searcher  of  fashionable  hearts.  She  drove  straight 
from  the  church  (it  was  a  Friday  morning)  to  Pad- 
dington  and  took  the  first  train  home.  Harry  was 
there — back  from  school  for  his  holiday — and  she  found 
him  in  the  smoking-room,  weighing  a  fish  which  he 
had  caught  in  the  pool  that  the  Blent  forms  above  the 
weir.  There  and  then  she  fell  on  her  knees  on  the  floor 
and  poured  forth  to  him  the  story  of  that  Odyssey  of 

[23] 


Tristram  ^  Blent 

hers  which  had  shocked  London  society  and  is  touched 
upon  in  Mr  Cholderton's  Journal.  He  Hstened 
amazed,  embarrassed,  puzzled  up  to  a  point ;  a  boy's 
normal  awkwardness  was  raised  to  its  highest  pitch ; 
he  did  not  want  to  hear  his  mother  call  herself  a 
wicked  woman  ;  and  anyhow  it  was  a  long  while  ago, 
and  he  did  not  understand  it  all  very  well.  The 
woman  lifted  her  eyes  and  looked  at  him ;  she  was 
caught  by  the  luxury  of  confession,  of  humiliation,  of 
offering  her  back  to  the  whip.  She  told  him  he  was 
not  her  heir — that  he  would  not  be  Tristram  of  Blent. 
For  a  moment  she  laid  her  head  on  the  floor  at  his  feet. 
She  heard  no  sound  from  him,  and  presently  looked 
up  at  him  again.  His  embarrassment  had  gone ;  he 
was  standing  rigidly  still,  his  eyes  gazing  out  toward 
the  river,  his  forehead  wrinkled  in  a  frown.  He  was 
thinking.  She  went  on  kneeling  there,  saying  no 
more,  staring  at  her  son.  It  was  characteristic  of  her 
that  she  did  not  risk  diminishing  the  effectiveness  of 
the  scene,  or  the  tragedy  of  her  avowal,  by  explaining 
the  perverse  accident  owing  to  which  her  fault  had 
entailed  such  an  aggravation  of  evil.  Harry  learnt 
that  later. 

Later — and  in  a  most  different  sort  of  interview. 
From  the  first  Harry  had  no  thought  of  surrender ;  his 
mother  had  none  either  as  soon  as  she  had  forgotten 
her  preacher.  The  discussion  was  resumed  after  a 
week  (Lady  Tristram  had  spent  the  interval  in  bed) 
on  a  business  footing.  She  fotmd  in  him  the  same 
carelessness  of  the  world  and  its  obligations  that  there 
was  in  herself,  but  found  it  carried  to  the  point  of  scorn 
and  allied  to  a  tenacity  of  purpose  and  a  keenness  of 
vision  which  she  had  never  owned.  Not  a  reproach 
escaped  him — less,  she  thought,  from  generosity  than 
because  he  chose  to  concentrate  his  mind  on  some- 
thing useful.     It  was  no  use  lamenting  the  past ;    it 

[24] 


On   Guard 

might  be  possible  to  undo  it  for  all  practical  purposes. 
The  affair  was  never  again  referred  to  between  them 
except  as  a  factor  recommending  or  dictating  some 
course  of  action ;  its  private  side — its  revelation  of 
her  and  its  effect  (or  what  might  have  been  its  effect) 
on  his  feelings  toward  her  —  was  never  spoken  of. 
Lady  Tristram  thought  that  the  effect  was  nothing, 
and  the  revelation  not  very  surprising  to  her  son.  He 
accepted  without  argument  her  own  view — that  she 
had  done  nothing  very  strange  but  had  fallen  on  very 
bad  luck.  But  he  told  her  at  once  that  he  was  not 
going  back  to  Harrow.  She  understood  ;  she  agreed 
to  be  watched,  she  abdicated  her  rule,  she  put  every- 
thing in  his  hands  and  obeyed  him. 

Thus,  at  fifteen,  Harry  Tristram  took  up  his  burden 
and  seemed  to  take  up  his  manhood  too.  He  never 
wavered ;  he  always  assumed  that  right  and  justice 
were  on  his  side,  that  he  was  not  merely  justified  in 
holding  his  place  but  bound  in  duty  to  keep  it.  Such 
practical  steps  as  could  be  taken  were  taken.  The  con- 
federates set  no  limit  to  their  preparations  against 
danger  and  their  devices  to  avoid  detection.  If  lies 
were  necessary,  they  would  lie ;  where  falsification 
was  wanted,  they  falsified.  There  was  no  suspicion; 
not  a  hint  of  it  had  reached  their  ears.  Things  were 
so  quiet  that  Lady  Tristram  often  forgot  the  whole 
affair ;  her  son  watched  always,  his  eyes  keen  for  a 
sight,  his  ear  down  to  the  earth  for  a  sound,  of  danger. 
No  security  relaxed  his  vigilance,  but  his  vigilance  be- 
came so  habitual,  so  entered  into  him,  that  his  mother 
ceased  to  notice  it  and  it  became  a  second  nature  to 
himself.  That  it  might  miss  nothing,  it  was  universal ; 
the  merest  stranger  came  within  its  ken.  He  watched 
all  mankind  lest  some  one  among  men  should  be 
seeking  to  take  his  treasure  from  him.  Mr  Cholder- 
ton's  Imp  had  not  used  her  eyes  in  vain;  but  Harry's 

[25] 


Tristram  ^  Blent 

neighbors,  content  to  call  him  reserved,  had  no  idea 
that  there  was  anything  in  particular  that  he  had  to 
hide. 

There  was  one  little  point  which,  except  for  his  per- 
suasion of  his  own  rectitude,  might  have  seemed  to 
indicate  an  uneasy  conscience,  but  was  in  fact  only 
evidence  of  a  natural  dislike  to  having  an  unwelcome 
subject  thrust  under  his  notice.  About  a  year  after  the 
disclosure  Lady  Tristram  had  a  letter  from  Mr  Gains- 
borough. This  gentleman  had  married  her  cousin,  and 
the  cousin,  a  woman  of  severe  principles, had  put  an  end 
to  all  acquaintance  in  consequence  of  the  "  Odyssey." 
She  was  dead,  and  her  husband  proposed  to  renew 
friendly  relations,  saying  that  his  daughter  knew  noth- 
ing of  past  differences  and  was  anxious  to  see  her 
kinsfolk.  The  letter  was  almost  gushing,  and  Lady 
Tristram,  left  to  herself,  would  have  answered  it  in 
the  same  kind ;  for  while  she  had  pleased  herself  she 
bore  no  resentment  against  folk  who  had  blamed  her. 
Moreover  Gainsborough  was  poor,  and  somebody  had 
told  her  that  the  girl  was  pleasant ;  she  pitied  poverty 
and  liked  being  kind  to  pleasant  people. 

"  Shall  we  invite  them  to  stay  for  a  week  or  two?  " 
she  had  asked. 

"  Never,"  he  said.  "  They  shall  never  come  here. 
I  don't  want  to  know  them,  I  won't  see  them."  His 
face  was  hard,  angry,  and  even  outraged  at  the  no- 
tion. 

His  mother  said  no  more.  If  the  barony  and  Blent 
departed  from  Harry,  on  Lady  Tristram's  death  they 
would  go  to  Cecily  Gainsborough.  If  Harry  had  his 
way,  that  girl  should  not  even  see  his  darling  Blent. 
If  distrust  of  his  mother  entered  at  all  into  his  deci- 
sion, if  he  feared  any  indiscreet  talk  from  her,  he  gave 
no  hint  of  it.  It  was  enough  that  the  girl  had  some 
odious  pretensions  which  he  could  and  would  defeat 

[26] 


On  Guard 

but  could  not  ignore — pretensions  for  his  mind,  in  her 
own  she  had  none. 

The  sun  had  sunk  behind  the  tower,  and  Lady  Tris- 
tram sat  in  a  low  chair  by  the  river,  enjoying  the  cool 
of  the  evening.  The  Blent  murmured  as  it  ran ;  the 
fishes  were  feeding;  the  midges  were  out  to  feed,  but 
they  did  not  bite  Lady  Tristram ;  they  never  did ; 
the  fact  had  always  been  a  comfort  to  her,  and  may 
perhaps  be  allowed  here  to  assume  a  mildly  allegorical 
meaning.  If  the  cool  of  the  evening  may  do  the  same, 
it  will  serve  very  well  to  express  the  stage  of  life  and 
of  feeling  to  which  no  more  than  the  beginning  of 
middle  age  had  brought  her.  It  was  rather  absurd,  but 
she  did  not  want  to  do  or  feel  very  much  more ;  and 
it  seemed  as  though  her  washes  were  to  be  respected. 
A  certain  distance  from  things  marked  her  now ;  only 
Harry  w^as  near  to  her,  only  Harry's  triumph  was 
very  important.  She  had  outrun  her  vital  income 
and  mortgaged  future  years  ;  if  foreclosure  threatened, 
she  maintained  her  old  power  of  taking  no  heed  of 
disagreeable  things,  however  imminent.  She  was  still 
very  handsome  and  wished  to  go  on  being  that  to  the 
end ;  fortunately  fragility  had  always  been  her  style 
and  always  suited  her. 

Harry  leant  his  elbow  on  a  great  stone  vase  which 
stood  on  a  pedestal  and  held  a  miniature  wilderness 
of  flowers. 

"  I  lunched  at  Fairholme,"  he  was  saying.  "  The 
paint's  all  wet  still,  of  course,  and  the  doors  stick  a 
bit,  but  I  liked  the  family.  He's  genuine,  she's  home- 
ly, and  Janic's  a  good  girl.    They  were  very  civil." 

"  I  suppose  so." 

"  Not  overwhelmed,"  he  added,  as  though  wishing 
to  correct  a  wrong  impression  which  yet  might  reason- 
ably have  arisen. 

"  I  didn't  mean  that.     I've  met  Mr  Tver,  and  he 

[27] 


Tristram  of  Blent 

wasn't  at  all  overwhelmed.  Mrs  Iver  was — out — 
when  I  called,  and  I  was — out — when  she  called." 
Lady  Tristram  was  visibly,  although  not  ostentatious- 
ly, allowing  for  the  prejudices  of  a  moral  middle-class. 

"  Young  Bob  Broadley  was  there — you  know  who 
I  mean?    At  Mingham  Farm,  up  above  the  Pool." 

"  I  know — a  handsome  young  man." 

"  I  forgot  he  was  handsome.  Of  course  you  know 
him  then!    What  a  pity  I'm  not  handsome,  mother!  " 

"  Oh,  you've  the  air,  though,"  she  observed  con- 
tentedly.   "  Is  he  after  Janie  Iver?  " 

"  So  I  imagine.  I'm  not  sure  that  I'm  not  too. 
Have  I  any  chance  against  Bob  Broadley  ?  " 

She  did  not  seem  to  take  him  seriously. 

"  They  wouldn't  look  at  Mr  Broadley."  (She  was 
pleasantly  punctilious  about  all  titles  and  courteous 
methods  of  reference  or  address.)  "  Janie  Iver's  a 
great  heiress." 

"And  what  about  me?"  he  insisted,  as  he  lit  his 
pipe  and  sat  down  opposite  her. 

"  You  mean  it,  Harry  ?  " 

"  There's  no  reason  why  I  shouldn't  marry,  is 
there  ?  " 

"  Why,  you  must  marry,  of  course.    But " 

"  We  can  do  the  blue  blood  business  enough  for 
both." 

"  Yes,  I  didn't  mean  that." 

"  You  mean — am  I  at  all  in  love  with  her?  " 

"  No,  not  quite.  Oh,  my  dear  Harry,  I  mean 
wouldn't  you  like  to  be  in  love  a  little  with  somebody? 
You  could  do  it  after  you  marry,  of  course,  and  you 
certainly  will  if  you  marry  now,  but  it's  not  so — so 
comfortable."  She  looked  at  him  with  a  sort  of  pity: 
her  feeling  was  that  he  gave  himself  no  holidays. 

He  sat  silent  a  moment  seeming  to  consider  some 
picture  which  her  suggestion  conjured  up. 

[28] 


On   Guard 

"  No  good  waiting  for  that,"  was  his  conclusion. 
"  Somehow  if  I  married  and  had  children,  it  would 
seem  to  make  everything  more  settled."  His  great 
pre-occupation  was  on  him  again.  "  We  could  do  with 
some  more  money  too,"  he  added,  "  and,  as  I  say,  I'm 
incHned  to  Uke  the  girl." 

"  What's  she  like  ?  " 

"  What  you  call  a  fine  girl — tall — well  made " 

"  She'll  be  fat  some  day,  I  expect." 

"  Straight  features,  broadish  face,  dark,  rather  heavy 
brows — you  know  the  sort  of  thing." 

''  Oh,  Harry,  I  hate  all  that !  " 

"  I  don't ;  I  rather  like  it."  He  was  smoking 
meditatively,  and  jerked  out  what  he  had  to  say  be- 
tween the  puffs.  "  I  shouldn't  like  to  mortgage 
Blent,"  he  went  on  a  moment  later. 

"  Mortgage  Blent  ?    What  for  ?  " 

He  raised  a  hand  to  ask  to  be  heard  out.  "  But  I 
should  like  to  feel  that  I  could  at  any  moment  lay 
my  hand  on  a  big  lump  of  ready  money — say  fifty,  or 
even  a  hundred,  thousand  pounds.  I  should  like  to  be 
able  to  pull  it  out  of  my  breeches'  pocket  and  say, 
'  Take  that  and  hold  your  tongue ! '  "  He  looked  at 
her  to  see  if  she  followed  what  was  in  his  mind.  "  I 
think  they'd  take  it,"  he  ended.  "  I  mean  if  things 
got  as  far  as  that,  you  know." 

"  You  mean  the  Gainsboroughs  ?  " 

"  Yes.  Oh,  anybody  else  would  be  cheaper  than 
that.  Fifty  thousand  would  be  better  than  a  very 
doubtful  case.  But  it  would  have  to  be  done  directly 
— before  a  word  was  heard  about  it.  I  should  like  to 
live  with  the  check  by  me." 

He  spoke  very  simply,  as  another  man  might  speak 
of  being  ready  to  meet  an  improvement-rate  or  an  ap- 
plication from  an  impecunious  brother. 

"  Don't  you  think  it  would  be  a  good  precaution?  " 

[29] 


Tristram  of  Blent 

he  asked.    Whether  he  meant  the  marriage,  the  check, 
or  the  lady,  was  immaterial ;  it  came  to  the  same  thing. 

"  It's  all  very  troublesome,"  Lady  Tristram  com- 
plained. "  It  really  half  spoils  our  lives,  doesn't  it, 
Harry?    One  always  has  to  be  worrying." 

The  smile  whose  movements  had  excited  Mina  Za- 
briska's  interest  made  its  appearance  on  Harry's  face. 
He  had  never  been  annoyed  by  his  mother's  external 
attitude  toward  the  result  of  her  own  doings,  but  he 
was  often  amused  at  it. 

"  Why  do  you  smile?  "  she  asked  innocently. 

"  Well,  worrying's  a  mild  term,"  he  explained  eva- 
sively. "  It's  my  work  in  the  world,  you  know — or 
it  seems  as  if  it  was  going  to  be." 

"  You'd  better  think  about  it,"  Lady  Tristram  con- 
cluded, not  wishing  to  think  about  it  any  more  her- 
self. "  You  wouldn't  tell  Mr  Iver  anything  about  the 
difficulty,  would  you?  "  "  The  difficulty  "  had  become 
her  usual  way  of  referring  to  their  secret. 

"  Not  a  word.  I'm  not  called  upon  to  justify  my 
position  to  Iver."  No  shadow  of  doubt  softened  the 
clearness  of  Harry's  conviction  on  this  point. 

He  rose,  filled  his  pipe  again,  and  began  to  walk  up 
and  down.  He  was  at  his  old  game,  counting  chances, 
one  by  one,  every  chance,  trying  to  eliminate  risks, 
one  by  one,  every  risk,  so  that  at  last  he  might  take  his 
ease  and  say  without  fear  of  contradiction,  "  Here  sits 
Tristram  of  Blent."  To  be  thus  was — something; 
but  to  be  safely  thus  was  so  much  more  that  it  did 
not  seem  to  him  a  great  thing  to  carry  out  the  plan 
which  he  had  suggested  to  Lady  Tristram.  To  be 
sure,  he  was  not  in  love  with  anybody  else,  which 
makes  a  difference,  though  it  is  doubtful  whether  it 
would  have  made  any  to  him.  Had  the  question 
arisen  at  that  moment  he  would  have  said  that  noth- 
ing could  make  any  difference. 

[30] 


On  Guard 

"  Did  you  go  up  to  the  Lodge,  Harry?  "  his  mother 
called  to  him  as  one  of  his  turns  brought  him  near  her. 

"  Oh,  yes ;  I  forgot  to  tell  you.  I  did,  and  I  found 
Madame  Zabriska  having  a  look  at  us  from  the  ter- 
race; so  I  had  a  Httle  talk  with  her.  I  didn't  see  the 
uncle." 

"  What's  she  like  ?  "  This  was  a  favorite  question 
of  Lady  Tristram's. 

Harry  paused  a  moment,  looking  for  a  description. 

"  Well,  if  you  can  imagine  one  needle  with  two  very 
large  eyes,  you'd  get  some  idea  of  her.  She's  sharp, 
mother — mind  and  body.  Pleasant  enough  though. 
She's  coming  to  see  you,  so  you  needn't  bother  to  go 
up,"  He  added  with  an  air  of  impatience,  "  She's  been 
hunting  in  the  Peerage." 

"  Of  course  she  would ;    there's  nothing  in  that." 

"  No,  I  suppose  not,"  he  admitted  almost  reluc- 
tantly. 

"  I  can't  help  thinking  I've  heard  the  name  before 
— not  Zabriska,  but  the  uncle's." 

"  Duplay,  isn't  it?    I  never  heard  it." 

"  Well,  I  can't  remember  anything  about  it,  but  it 
sounds  familiar.  I'm  confusing  it  with  something  else, 
I  suppose.  They  look  like  being  endurable,  do 
they?" 

"  Oh,  yes,  as  people  go,"  he  answered,  resuming  his 
walk. 

If  a  determination  to  keep  for  yourself  what  accord- 
ing to  your  own  conviction  belongs  by  law  to  another 
makes  a  criminal  intent — and  that  irrespective  of  the 
merits  of  the  law — it  would  be  hard  to  avoid  classing 
Lady  Tristram  and  her  son  as  criminals  in  contem- 
plation, if  not  yet  in  action.  And  so  considered  they 
afforded  excellent  specimens  of  two  kinds  of  criminals 
which  a  study  of  assize  courts  reveals — the  criminal 
who  drifts  and  the  criminal  who  plans ;    the  former 

[31] 


Tristram  of  Blent 

usually  termed  by  counsel  and  judge  "  unhappy,"  the 
latter  more  sternly  dubbed  "  dangerous."  Lady  Tris- 
tram had  always  drifted  and  was  drifting  still ;  Harry 
had  begun  to  plan  at  fifteen  and  still  was  busy  plan- 
ning. One  result  of  this  difiference  was  that  whereas 
she  was  hardly  touched  or  affected  in  character  he 
had  been  immensely  influenced.  In  her  and  to  her 
the  whole  thing  seemed  almost  accidental,  a  worry,  as 
she  put  it,  and  not  much  more ;  with  him  it  was  the 
governing  fact  in  life,  and  had  been  the  force  most 
potent  in  moulding  him.  The  trouble  came  into  her 
head  when  something  from  outside  put  it  there ;  it 
never  left  his  brain.  And  she  had  no  adequate  concep- 
tion of  what  it  was  to  him.  Even  his  scheme  of  marry- 
ing Janie  Ivcr  and  his  vivid  little  phrase  about  livmg 
with  the  check  by  him  failed  to  bring  it  home  to  her. 
This  very  evening,  as  soon  as  he  was  out  of  sight,  both 
he  and  his  great  question  were  out  of  the  mind  of 
the  woman  who  had  brought  both  him  and  it  into  ex- 
istence. There  are  people  who  carry  the  doctrine  of 
free-will  so  far  in  their  own  persons  as  to  take  the 
liberty  of  declining  to  allow  causes  to  work  on  and 
in  them,  what  are  logically,  morally,  and  on  every 
other  ground  conceivable,  their  necessary  effects ; 
reasoning  from  what  they  have  done  to  what  they 
must  be,  from  what  they  have  been  responsible  for  to 
what  they  must  feel,  breaks  down ;  they  are  arbitra- 
ry, unconditioned,  themselves  as  it  were  accidental. 
With  this  comes  a  sort  of  innocence,  sometimes  attrac- 
tive, sometimes  uncommonly  exasperating  to  the  nor- 
mal man. 

So  Lady  Tristram  went  back  to  her  novel,  and 
Harry  walked  by  the  river,  moodily  meditating  and 
busily  scheming.  Meanwhile  Mina  Zabriska  had 
flown  to  the  library  at  Merrion  Lodge,  and,  finding 
books  that  had  belonged  to  a  legal  member  of  the 

[32] 


On   Guard 

family  in  days  gone  by,  was  engaged  in  studying  the 
law  relating  to  the  succession  to  lands  and  titles  in 
England.  She  did  not  make  quick  progress.  Never- 
theless in  a  day  or  two  she  had  reached  a  point  when 
she  was  bubbling  over  with  curiosity  and  excitement ; 
she  felt  that  she  could  not  go  on  sitting  opposite 
Major  Duplay  at  meals  without  giving  him  at  least 
a  hint  or  two  of  the  wonderful  state  of  things  on 
which  she  had  hit,  and  without  asking  him  to  con- 
sider the  facts  and  to  have  a  look  at  the  books  which 
were  so  puzzling  and  exercising  her  brain.  Yet  Harry 
Tristram,  wary  sentinel  as  he  was,  did  not  dream  of 
any  attack  or  scent  any  danger  from  the  needle  with 
two  very  large  eyes,  as  he  had  called  the  lady  at  Mer- 
rion  Lodge. 


[33] 


IV 

She  Could  an'  She  Would 

IN  spite  of  Mrs  Iver's  secret  opinion  that  people 
with  strange  names  were  Hkely  to  be  strange 
themselves,  and  that,  for  all  she  saw,  foreigners 
were — not  fools,  as  Dr  Johnson's  friend  thought — but 
generally  knaves,  an  acquaintance  was  soon  made  be- 
tween Fairholme  and  Merrion  Lodge.  Her  family 
was  against  Mrs  Iver ;  her  husband  was  boundlessly 
hospitable,  Janie  was  very  sociable.  The  friendship 
grew  and  prospered.  Mr  Iver  began  to  teach  the 
Major  to  play  golf.  Janie  took  Alina  Zabriska  out 
driving  in  the  highest  dog-cart  on  the  countryside : 
they  would  go  along  the  road  by  the  river,  and  get 
out  perhaps  for  a  wander  by  the  Pool,  or  even  drive 
higher  up  the  valley  and  demand  tea  from  Bob  Broad- 
ley  at  his  pleasant  little  place — half  farm,  half  manor- 
house — at  Mingham,  three  miles  above  the  Pool. 
Matters  moved  so  quick  that  Mina  understood  in  a 
week  why  Janie  found  it  pleasant  to  have  a  compan- 
ion under  whose  aegis  she  could  drop  in  at  Mingham ; 
in  little  more  than  a  fortnight  she  began  to  under- 
stand why  her  youthful  uncle  (the  Major  was  very 
young  now)  grunted  unsympathetically  when  she  ob- 
served that  the  road  to  Mingham  was  the  prettiest 
in  the  neighborhood.  The  Imp  was  accumulating 
other  people's  secrets,  and  was  accordingly  in  a  state 
of  high  satisfaction. 

The  situation  developed  fast,  and  for  the  time  at 
least  Janie  Iver  was  heroine  and  held  the  centre  of 
the  stage.     A  chance  of  that  state  of  comfort  which 

[34] 


She   Could  an*  She   Would 

was  his  remaining  and  modest  ambition  had  opened 
before  the  Major  —  and  the  possibiUty  of  sharing  it 
with  a  congenial  partner :  the  Major  wasted  no  time 
in  starting  his  campaign.  Overtures  from  Blent,  more 
stately  but  none  the  less  prompt,  showed  that  Harry 
Tristram  had  not  spoken  idly  to  his  mother.  And 
what  about  Bob  Broadley?  He  seemed  to  be  out  of 
the  running,  and  indeed  to  have  little  inclination,  or 
not  enough  courage,  to  press  forward.  Yet  the  drives 
to  Mingham  went  on.  Mina  was  puzzled.  She  began 
to  observe  the  currents  in  the  Fairholme  household. 
Iver  was  for  Harry,  she  thought,  though  he  main- 
tained a  dignified  show  of  indifference ;  Mrs  Iver — 
the  miraculous  occurring  in  a  fortnight,  as  it  often 
does — was  at  least  very  much  taken  with  the  Major. 
Bob  Broadley  had  no  friend,  unless  in  Janie  herself. 
And  Janie  was  inscrutable  by  virtue  of  an  open  pleas- 
ure in  the  attention  of  all  three  gentlemen  and  an 
obvious  disinclination  to  devote  herself  exclusively 
to  any  one  of  them.  She  could  not  flirt  with  Harry 
Tristram,  because  he  had  no  knowledge  of  the  art, 
but  she  accepted  his  significant  civilities.  She  did  flirt 
with  the  Major,  who  had  many  years'  experience  of 
the  pastime.  And  she  was  kind  to  Bob  Broadley, 
going  to  see  him,  as  has  been  said,  sending  him  invi- 
tations, and  seeming  in  some  way  to  be  fighting 
against  his  own  readiness  to  give  up  the  battle  before 
it  was  well  begun.  But  it  is  hard  to  help  a  man  who 
will  not  help  himself ;  on  the  other  hand,  it  is  said  to 
be  amusing  sometimes. 

They  all  met  at  Fairholme  one  afternoon,  Harry 
appearing  unexpectedly  as  the  rest  w^ere  at  tea  on  the 
lawn.  This  was  his  first  meeting  with  the  Major.  As 
he  greeted  that  gentleman,  even  more  when  he  shook 
hands  with  Bob,  there  was  a  touch  of  regality  in  his 
manner ;  the  reserve  was  prominent,  and  his  preroga- 

[35] 


Tristram  of  Blent 

tive  was  claimed.  Very  soon  he  carried  Janie  off  for 
a  solitary  walk  in  the  shrubberies.  Mina  enjoyed  her 
uncle's  frown  and  chafed  at  Bob's  self-effacement;  he 
had  been  talking  to  Janie  when  Harry  calmly  took  her 
away.  The  pair  were  gone  half  an  hour,  and  conver- 
sation flagged.  They  reappeared,  Janie  looking 
rather  excited,  Harry  almost  insolently  calm,  and  sat 
down  side  by  side.  The  Major  walked  across  and  took 
a  vacant  seat  on  the  other  side  of  Janie.  The  slightest 
look  of  surprise  showed  on  Harry  Tristram's  face.  A 
duel  began.  Duplay  had  readiness,  suavity,  volubil- 
ity, a  trick  of  flattering  deference ;  on  Harry's  side 
were  a  stronger  suggestion  of  power  and  an  assump- 
tion, rather  attractive,  that  he  must  be  listened  to. 
Janie  liked  this  air  of  his,  even  while  she  resented  it ; 
here,  in  his  own  county  at  least,  a  Tristram  of  Blent 
was  somebody.  Bob  Broadley  was  listening  to  Tver's 
views  on  local  affairs;  he  was  not  in  the  fight  at  all, 
but  he  was  covertly  watching  it.  Perhaps  Iver 
watched  too,  but  it  was  not  easy  to  penetrate  the 
thoughts  of  that  astute  man  of  business.  The  for- 
tune of  battle  seemed  to  incline  to  Harry's  side;  the 
Major  was  left  out  of  the  talk  for  minutes  together. 
More  for  fun  than  from  any  loyalty  to  her  kinsman, 
Mina  rose  and  walked  over  to  Harry. 

"  Do  take  me  to  see  the  greenhouses,  Mr  Tris- 
tram," she  begged.  "  You're  all  right  with  uncle, 
aren't  you,  Janie?  " 

Janie  nodded  rather  nervously.  After  a  pause  of 
a  full  half-minute,  Harry  Tristram  rose  without  a 
word  and  began  to  walk  off;  it  was  left  for  Mina  to 
join  him  in  a  hurried  little  run. 

"  Oh,  wait  for  me,  anyhow,"  she  cried,  with  a  laugh. 

They  walked  on  some  way  in  silence. 

"  You're  not  very  conversational,  Mr  Tristram.  I 
suppose  you're  angry  with  me?  " 

[36] 


She  Could  an'  She  Would 

He  turned  and  looked  at  her.  Presently  he  began 
to  smile,  even  more  slowly,  it  seemed,  than  usual. 

"  I  must  see  that  my  poor  uncle  has  fair  play — what 
do  you  call  it  ? — a  fair  show — mustn't  I  ?  " 

"Oh,  that's  what  you  meant,  Madame  Zabriska? 
It  wasn't  the  pleasure  of  my  company  ?  " 

"  Do  you  know,  I  think  you  rather  exaggerate  the 
pleasure — no,  not  the  pleasure,  I  mean  the  honor — • 
of  your  company?  You  were  looking  as  if  you 
couldn't  understand  how  anybody  could  want  to  talk 
to  uncle  when  you  were  there.  But  he's  better-look- 
ing than  you  are,  and  much  more  amusing." 

"  I  don't  set  up  for  a  beauty  or  a  wit  either,"  Harry 
observed,  not  at  all  put  out  by  the  Imp's  premeditated 
candor. 

"  No — and  still  she  ought  to  want  to  talk  to  you ! 
Why?  Because  you're  Mr  Tristram,  I  suppose?" 
Mina  indulged  in  a  very  scornful  demeanor. 

"  It's  very  friendly  of  you  to  resent  my  behavior 
on  Miss  Iver's  behalf." 

"  There  you  are  again !  That  means  she  doesn't 
resent  it !  I  think  you  give  yourself  airs,  Mr  Tris- 
tram, and  I  should  like " 

"To  take  me  down  a  peg?"  he  asked,  in  a  tone 
of  rather  contemptuous  amusement. 

She  paused  a  minute,  and  then  nodded  signifi- 
cantly. 

"  Exactly ;  and  to  make  you  feel  a  little  uncomfort- 
able— not  quite  so  sure  of  yourself  and  everything 
about  you."  Again  she  waited  a  minute,  her  eyes  set 
on  his  face  and  watching  it  keenly.  "  I  wonder  if  I 
could,"  she  ended  slowly. 

"  Upon  my  word,  I  don't  see  how  it's  to  be  done." 
He  was  openly  chaffing  her  now. 

"  Oh,  I  don't  know  that  you're  invulnerable,"  she 
said,  with  a  toss  of  her  head.     "  Don't  defy  me,  Mr 

[37] 


Tristram  ^' Blent 

Tristram.  I  don't  mind  telling  you  that  it  would  be 
very  good  for  you  if  you  weren't " 

"  Appreciated?  "  he  suggested  ironically. 

"  No ;  I  was  going  to  say  if  you  weren't  Mr  Tris- 
tram, or  the  future  Lord  Tristram  of  Blent." 

If  she  had  hoped  to  catch  him  off  his  guard,  she  was 
mistaken.  Not  a  quiver  passed  over  his  face  as  he 
remarked : 

"  I'm  afraid  Providence  can  hardly  manage  that 
now,  either  for  my  good  or  for  your  amusement, 
Madame  Zabriska,  much  as  it  might  conduce  to  both." 

The  Imp  loved  fighting,  and  her  blood  was  getting 
up.  He  was  a  good  foe,  but  he  did  not  know  her 
power.  He  must  not  either — not  yet,  anyhow.  If 
he  patronized  her  much  more,  she  began  to  feel  that 
he  would  have  to  know  it  some  day — not  to  his  hurt, 
of  course ;   merely  for  the  reformation  of  his  manners. 

"  Meanwhile,"  he  continued,  as  he  lit  a  cigarette, 
"  I'm  not  seriously  disappointed  that  attentions  paid 
to  one  lady  fail  to  please  another.  That's  not  uncom- 
mon, you  know.  By  the  way,  we're  not  on  the  path 
to  the  greenhouses  ;  but  you  don't  mind  that  ?  They 
were  a  pretext,  no  doubt  ?  Oh,  I  don't  want  to  hurry 
back.  Your  uncle  shall  have  his  fair  show.  How  well 
you're  mastering  English  !  " 

At  this  moment  Mina  hated  him  heartily ;  she  swore 
to  humble  him — before  herself,  not  before  the  world, 
of  course ;  she  would  give  him  a  fright  anyhow — not 
now,  but  some  day ;  if  her  temper  could  not  stand 
the  strain  better,  it  would  be  some  day  soon,  though. 

"  You  see,"  Harry's  calm  exasperating  voice  went 
on,  "  it's  just  possible  that  you're  better  placed  at 
present  as  an  observer  of  our  manners  than  as  a  critic 
of  them.  I  hope  I  don't  exceed  the  limits  of  candor 
which  you  yourself  indicated  as  allowable  in  this 
pleasant  conversation  of  ours?  " 

[38] 


She   Could  an'  She  Would 

"  Oh  well,  we  shall  see,"  she  declared,  with  another 
nod.  The  vague  threat  (for  it  seemed  that  or  noth- 
ing) elicited  a  low  laugh  from  Harry  Tristram. 

"  We  shall,"  he  said.  "  And  in  the  meantime  a  little 
sparring  is  amusing  enough.  I  don't  confess  to  a  hit 
at  present;    do  you,  Madame  Zabriska?" 

Alina  did  not  confess,  but  she  felt  the  hit  all  the 
same ;  if  she  were  to  fight  him,  she  must  bring  her 
reserves  into  action. 

"  By  the  way,  I'm  so  sorry  you  couldn't  see  my 
mother  when  you  called  the  other  day.  She's  not 
at  all  well,  unhappily.  She  reallv  wants  to  see 
you." 

"  How  very  kind  of  Lady  Tristram !  "  There  was 
kept  for  the  mother  a  little  of  the  sarcastic  humility 
which  was  more  appropriate  when  directed  against 
the  son.  Harry  smiled  still  as  he  turned  round  and  be- 
gan to  escort  her  back  to  the  lawn.  The  smile  an- 
noyed Mina  ;  it  was  a  smile  of  victory.  Well,  the  vic- 
tory should  not  be  altogether  his. 

"  I  want  to  see  Lady  Tristram  very  much,"  she 
went  on,  in  innocent  tones  and  with  a  face  devoid  of 
malice,  "  because  I  can't  help  thinking  I  must  have 
seen  her  before — when  I  was  quite  a  little  girl." 

"You've  seen  my  mother  before?  When  and 
where?  " 

"  She  was  Mrs  Fitzhubert,  wasn't  she  ?  " 

"  Yes,  of  course  she  was — before  she  came  into  the 
title." 

"  Well,  a  Mrs  Fitzhubert  used  to  come  and  see  my 
mother  long  ago  at  Heidelberg.  Do  you  know  if  your 
mother  was  ever  at  Heidelberg?  " 

"  I  fancy  she  was — Fm  not  sure." 

Still  the  Imp  was  very  innocent,  although  the  form 
of  Harry's  reply  caused  her  inward  amusement  and 
triumph. 

[39] 


Tristram  of  Blent 

"  My  mother  was  Madame  de  Kries.  Ask  Lady 
Tristram  if  she  remembers  the  name." 

It  was  a  hit  for  her  at  last,  though  Harry  took  it 
well.  He  turned  quickly  toward  her,  opened  his  lips 
to  speak,  repented,  and  did  no  more  than  give  her  a 
rather  long  and  rather  intense  look.  Ther«  he  nodded 
carelessly.  "  All  right,  I'll  ask  her,"  said  he.  The 
next  moment  he  put  a  question.  "  Did  you  know 
about  having  met  her  before  you  came  to  Merrion?" 

"  Oh  well,  I  looked  in  the  '  Peerage,'  but  it  really 
didn't  strike  me  till  a  day  or  two  ago  that  it  might 
be  the  same  Mrs  Fitzhubert.  The  name's  pretty  com- 
mon, isn't  it  ?  " 

"  No,  it's  very  uncommon." 

"  Oh,  I  didn't  know,"  murmured  Mina  apologeti- 
cally; but  the  glance  which  followed  him  as  he 
turned  away  was  not  apologetic ;   it  was  triumphant. 

She  got  back  in  time  to  witness — to  her  regret  (let 
it  be  confessed)  she  could  not  overhear — Janie's  fare- 
well to  Bob  Broadley.  They  had  been  friends  from 
youth ;  he  was  "  Bob  "  to  her,  she  was  now  to  him 
"  Miss  Janie." 

"  You  haven't  said  a  word  to  me,  Bob." 

"  I  haven't  had  a  chance ;  you're  always  with  the 
swells  now." 

"  How  can  I  help  it,  if — if  nobody  else  comes  ?  " 

"  I  really  shouldn't  have  the  cheek.  Harry  Tris- 
tram was  savage  enough  with  the  Major  —  what 
would  he  have  been  with  me  ?  " 

"  Why  should  it  matter  what  he  was  ?  " 

"Do  you  really  think  that.  Miss  Janie?"  Bob 
was  almost  at  the  point  of  an  advance. 

"  I  mean — why  should  it  matter  to  you  ?  " 

The  explanation  checked  the  advance. 

"  Oh,  I — I  see.  I  don't  know,  I'm  sure.  Well  then, 
I  don't  know  how  to  deal  with  him." 

[40] 


She  Could  an'  She  Would 

"  Well,  good-by." 

"  Good-by,  Miss  Janie." 

"  Are  you  coming  to  see  us  again,  ever?  " 

"  If  you  ask  me,  I " 

"  And  am  I  coming  again  to  Mingham  ?  Although 
you  don't  ask  me." 

"Will  you  really?" 

"  Oh,  you  do  ask  me  ?    When  I  ask  you  to  ask  me !  " 

"  Any  day  you'll " 

"  No,  I'll  surprise  you.    Good-by.    Good-by  really." 

The  conversation,  it  must  be  admitted,  sounds 
commonplace  when  verbally  recorded.  Yet  he  would 
be  a  despondent  man  who  considered  it  altogether 
discouraging;  Mina  did  not  think  Janie's  glances 
discouraging  either.  But  Bob  Broadley,  a  literal 
man,  found  no  warrant  for  fresh  hope  in  any  of  the 
not  very  significant  words  which  he  repeated  to  him- 
self as  he  rode  home  up  the  valley  of  the  Blent.  He 
suffered  under  modesty ;  it  needed  more  than  coquetry 
to  convince  him  that  he  exercised  any  attraction  over 
the  rich  and  brilliant  (brilliance  also  is  a  matter  of 
comparison)  Miss  Iver,  on  w^hose  favor  Mr  Tristram 
waited  and  at  whose  side  Major  Duplay  danced  at- 
tendance. 

"  You're  a  dreadful  flirt,  Janie,"  said  Mina,  as  she 
kissed  her  friend. 

Janie  was  not  a  raw  girl ;  she  was  a  capable  young 
woman  of  two-and-twenty. 

"  Nonsense,"  she  said  rather  crossly.  "  It's  not 
flirting  to  take  time  to  make  up  your  mind." 

"  It  looks  like  it,  though." 

"  And  I've  no  reason  to  suppose  they've  any  one 
of  them  made  up  their  minds." 

"  I  should  think  you  could  do  that  for  them  pretty 
soon.     Besides,  uncle  has,  anyhow." 

"  I'm  to  be  your  aunt,  am  I?" 

[41] 


Tristram  ^  Blent 

"  Oh,  he's  only  an  uncle  by  accident." 

"  Yes,  I  think  that's  true.  Shall  we  have  a  drive 
soon  ?  " 

"  To  Aiingham?    Or  to  Blent  Hall?  " 

"  Not  Blent.    I  wait  my  lord's  pleasure  to  see  me." 

•'  Yes,  that's  just  how  I  feel  about  him,"  cried  Mina 
eagerly. 

"  But  all  the  same " 

"  No,  I  won't  hear  a  word  of  good  about  him.  I 
hate  him !  " 

Janie  smiled  in  an  indulgent  but  rather  troubled 
way.  Her  problem  was  serious  ;  she  could  not  afford 
the  Imp's  pettish  treatment  of  the  world  and  the 
people  in  it.  Janie  had  responsibilities — banks  and 
buildings  full  of  them — and  a  heart  to  please  into  the 
bargain.  Singularly  complicated  questions  are  rather 
cruelly  put  before  young  women,  who  must  solve 
them  on  peril  of It  would  sound  like  exaggera- 
tion to  say  what. 

There  was  Mrs  Iver  to  be  said  good-by  to — 
plump,  peaceful,  proper  Mrs  Iver,  whom  nothing  had 
great  power  to  stir  save  an  unkindness  and  an  un- 
conventionality ;  before  either  of  these  she  bristled 
surprisingly. 

"  I  hope  you've  all  enjoyed  this  lovely  afternoon," 
she  said  to  Mina. 

"  Oh,  yes,  we  have,  Mrs  Iver — not  quite  equally 
perhaps,  but  still " 

Mrs  Iver  sighed  and  kissed  her. 

"  Men  are  always  the  difficulty,  aren't  they?"  said 
the  Imp. 

"  Poor  child,  and  you've  lost  yours !  " 

"  Yes,  poor  Adolf !  "  There  was  a  touch  of  duty 
in  Mina's  sigh.  She  had  been  fond  of  Adolf,  but  his 
memory  was  not  a  constant  presence.  The  world  for 
the  living  was  Madame  Zabriska's  view. 

[42] 


She  Could  an*  She  Would 

"  I'm  so  glad  Janie's  found  a  friend  in  you — and  a 
wise  one,  I'm  sure." 

Mina  did  her  best  to  look  the  part  thus  charitably 
assigned  to  her;  her  glance  at  Janie  was  matronly, 
almost  maternal. 

"  Not  that  I  know  anything  about  it,"  Mrs  Iver 
pursued,  following  a  train  of  thought  obvious  enough. 
"  I  hope  she'll  act  for  her  happiness,  that's  all.  There's 
the  dear  Major  looking  for  you — don't  keep  him  wait- 
ing, dear.  How  lucky  he's  your  uncle — he  can  always 
be  with  you." 

"  Until  he  settles  and  makes  a  home  for  himself," 
smiled  Mina  irrepressibly ;  the  rejuvenescence — nay, 
the  unbroken  youth — of  her  relative  appeared  to  her 
quaintly  humorous,  and  it  was  her  fancy  to  refer  to 
him  as  she  might  to  a  younger  brother. 

There  was  Mr  Iver  to  be  said  good-by  to. 

"  Come  again  soon — you're  always  welcome ;  you 
wake  us  up,  Madame  Zabriska." 

"  You  promised  to  say  Mina !  " 

"  So  I  did,  but  my  tongue's  out  of  practice  with 
young  ladies'  Christian  names.  Why,  I  call  my  wife 
*  Mother ' — only  Janie  says  I  mustn't.  Yes,  come  and 
cheer  us  up.  I  shall  make  the  uncle  a  crack  player 
before  long.  Mustn't  let  him  get  lazy  and  spend  half 
the  day  over  five  o'clock  tea,  though." 

This  was  hardly  a  hint,  but  it  was  an  indication  of 
the  trend  of  Mr  Iver's  thoughts.  So  it  was  a  dan- 
gerous ball,  and  that  clever  little  cricketer,  the  Imp, 
kept  her  bat  away  from  it.  She  laughed  ;  that  com- 
mitted her  to  nothing — and  left  Iver  to  bowl  again. 

"  It's  quite  a  change  to  find  Harry  Tristram  at  a 
tea-party,  though  !     Making  himself  pleasant  too  !  " 

"  Not  to  me,"  observed  Mina  decisively. 

"  You  chaffed  him,  I  expect.  He  stands  a  bit  on 
his  dignity.    Ah  well,  he's  young,  you  sec." 

[43] 


Tristram  of  Blent 

"  No,  he  chaffed  me.  Oh,  I  think  I — I  left  off  even, 
you  know." 

"  They  get  a  bit  spoilt."  He  seemed  to  be  referring 
to  the  aristocracy.  "  But  there's  plenty  of  stuff  in 
him,  or  I'm  much  mistaken.  He's  a  born  fighter,  I 
think." 

"  I  wonder !  "  said  Mina,  her  eyes  twinkling  again. 

Finally  there  was  the  Major  to  be  walked  home 
with — not  a  youthful  triumphant  Major,  but  a  rather 
careworn,  undisguisedly  irritated  one.  If  Mina 
wanted  somebody  to  agree  with  her  present  mood 
about  Harry  Tristram,  her  longing  was  abundantly 
gratified.  The  Major  roundly  termed  him  an  over- 
bearing young  cub,  and  professed  a  desire — almost  an 
intention — to  teach  him  better  manners.  This  coin- 
cidence of  views  was  a  sore  temptation  to  the  Imp; 
to  resist  it  altogether  would  seem  superhuman. 

"  I  should  like  to  cut  his  comb  for  him,"  growled 
Duplay. 

Whatever  the  metaphor  adopted,  Mina  was  in  es- 
sential agreement.  She  launched  on  an  account  of 
how  Harry  had  treated  her:  they  fanned  one  another's 
fires,  and  the  frames  burnt  merrily. 

Mina's  stock  of  discretion  was  threatened  with  com- 
plete consumption.  From  open  denunciations  she 
turned  to  mysterious  hintings. 

"  I  could  bring  him  to  reason  if  I  liked,"  she  said. 

"  What,  make  him  fall  in  love  with  you  ?  "  cried 
Duplay,  with  a  surprise  not  very  complimentary. 

"  Oh  no,"  she  laughed ;  "  better  than  that — by  a 
great  deal." 

He  eyed  her  closely :  probably  this  was  only  another 
of  her  whimsical  tricks,  with  which  he  was  very  fa- 
miliar; if  he  showed  too  much  interest  she  would 
laugh  at  him  for  being  taken  in.  But  she  had  hinted 
before  to-day's  annoyances ;    she  was  hinting  again. 

[44] 


She  Could  an'   She   Would 

He  had  yawned  at  her  hints  till  he  became  Harry 
Tristram's  rival ;  he  was  ready  to  be  eager  now,  if 
only  he  could  be  sure  that  they  pointed  to  anything 
more  than  folly  or  delusion. 

"  Oh,  my  dear  child,"  he  exclaimed,  "  you  mustn't 
talk  nonsense.  We  mayn't  like  him,  but  what  in  the 
world  could  you  do  to  him?  " 

"  I  don't  want  to  hurt  him,  but  I  should  like  to 
make  him  sing  small." 

They  had  just  reached  the  foot  of  the  hill.  Duplay 
waved  his  arm  across  the  river  toward  the  hall. 
Blent  looked  strong  and  stately. 

"  That's  a  big  task,  my  dear,"  he  said,  recovering 
some  of  his  good-humor  at  the  sight  of  Mina's  wasp- 
ish little  face.  "  I  fancy  it'll  need  a  bigger  man  than 
you  to  make  Tristram  of  Blent  sing  small."  He 
laughed  at  her  indulgently.  "  Or  than  me  either,  I'm 
afraid,"  he  added,  with  a  ruefulness  that  was  not  ill- 
tempered.  "  We  must  fight  him  in  fair  fight,  that's 
all." 

"  He  doesn't  fight  fair,"  she  cried  angrily.  The 
next  instant  she  broke  into  her  most  malicious  smile. 
"  Tristram  of  Blent !  "  she  repeated.    "  Oh  well " 

"  Mina,  dear,  do  you  know  you  rather  bore  me? 
If  you  mean  anything  at  all " 

"  I  may  mean  what  I  like  without  telling  you,  I 
suppose  ?  " 

"  Certainly — but  don't  ask  me  to  listen." 

"  You  think  it's  all  nonsense?  " 

"  I  do,  my  dear,"  confessed  the  Major. 

How  far  he  spoke  sincerely  he  himself  could  hardly 
tell.  Perhaps  he  had  an  alternative  in  his  mind :  if 
she  meant  nothing,  she  would  hold  her  peace  and  cease 
to  weary  him  ;  if  she  meant  anything  real,  his  chal- 
lenge would  bring  it  out.  But  for  the  moment  she  had 
fallen  into  thouglit. 


'&" 


[45] 


Tristram   ^Blent 

"  No,  he  doesn't  fight  fair,"  she  repeated,  as  though 
to  herself.  She  glanced  at  her  uncle  in  a  hesitating, 
undecided  way.  "  And  he's  abominably  rude,"  she 
went  on,  with  a  sudden  return  of  pettishness. 

The  Major's  shrug  expressed  an  utter  exhaustion 
of  patience,  a  scornful  irritation,  almost  a  contempt  for 
her.  She  could  not  endure  it;  she  must  justify  her- 
self, revenge  herself  at  a  blow  on  Harry  for  his  rude- 
ness and  on  her  uncle  for  his  scepticism.  The  triumph 
would  be  sweet ;  she  could  not  for  the  moment  think 
of  any  seriousness  in  what  she  did.  She  could  not 
keep  her  victory  to  herself;  somebody  else  now  must 
look  on  at  Harry's  humiliation,  at  least  must  see  that 
she  had  power  to  bring  it  about.  With  the  height  of 
malicious  exultation  she  looked  up  at  Duplay  and  said : 

"  Suppose  he  wasn't  Tristram  of  Blent  at  all  ?  " 

Duplay  stopped  short  where  he  stood — on  the  slope 
of  the  hill  above  Blent  itself. 

"  What?    Is  this  more  nonsense?  " 

"  No,  it  isn't  nonsense." 

He  looked  at  her  steadily,  almost  severely.  Under 
his  regard  her  smile  disappeared ;  she  grew  uncom- 
fortable. 

"  Then  I  must  know  more  about  it.  Come,  Mina, 
this  is  no  trifle,  you  know." 

"  I  shan't  tell  you  any  more,"  she  flashed  out,  in  a 
last  effort  of  petulance. 

"  You  must,"  he  said  calmly.  "  All  you  know,  all 
you  think.    Come,  we'll  have  it  out  now  at  once." 

She  followed  like  a  naughty  child.  She  could  have 
bitten  her  tongue  out,  as  the  old  phrase  goes.  Her 
feelings  went  round  Hke  a  weather-cock ;  she  was 
ashamed  of  herself,  sorry  for  Harry — yes,  and  afraid 
of  Harry.  And  she  was  afraid  of  Duplay  too.  She 
had  run  herself  into  something  serious — that  she  saw ; 
something  serious  in  which  two  resolute  men  were 

[46] 


She  Could  an'  She  Would 

involved.  She  did  not  know  where  it  would  end.  But 
now  she  could  not  resist.  The  youthful  uncle  seemed 
youthful  no  more ;  he  was  old,  strong,  authoritative. 
He  made  her  follow  him,  and  he  bade  her  speak. 

She  followed,  like  the  naughty  child  she  now  seemed 
even  to  herself;  and  presently,  in  the  library,  beside 
those  wretched  books  of  hers,  her  old  law-books  and 
her  Peerages,  reluctantly,  stumblingly,  sullenly,  still 
like  the  naughty  child  who  would  revolt  but  dare  not, 
she  spoke.  And  when  at  last  he  let  her  go  with  her 
secret  told,  she  ran  up  to  her  own  room  and  threw 
herself  on  the  bed,  sobbing.  She  had  let  herself  in 
for  something  dreadful.  It  was  all  her  own  fault — and 
she  was  very  sorry. 

Those  were  her  two  main  conclusions. 

Her  whole  behavior  was  probably  just  what  the 
gentleman  to  whom  she  owed  her  nickname  would 
have  expected  and  prophesied. 


[47] 


V 

The  First  Round 

WITHIN  the  last  few  days  there  were  ominous 
rumors  afloat  as  to  Lady  Tristram's  health. 
It  was  known  that  she  could  see  nobody  and 
kept  her  room ;    it  was  reported  that  the  doctors  (a 
specialist  had  been  down  from  town)  were  looking 
very  grave ;    it  was  agreed  that  her  constitution  had 
not  the  strength  to  support  a  prolonged  strain.    There 
was   sympathy — the   neighborhood  was   proud  in  its 
way  of  Lady  Tristram — and  there  was  the  usual  in- 
terest to  which  the  prospect  of  a  death  and  a  succes- 
sion  gives   rise.     They   canvassed    Harry's   probable 
merits  and  demerits,  asking  how  he  would  fill  the  va- 
cant throne,  and,  more  particularly,  whether  he  would 
be  likely  to  entertain  freely.     Lavish  hospitality  at 
Blent  would  mean  much  to  their  neighborhood,  and  if 
it  were  indeed  the  case  (as  was  now  prophesied  in  whis- 
pers) that  Miss  Iver  of  Fairholme  was  to  be  mistress 
at  the  Hall,  there  would  be  nothing  to  prevent  the 
hospitaUties  from  being  as  splendid  as  the  mind  of 
woman  could  conceive.    There  were  spinster  ladies  in 
small  villas  at    Blentmouth  who    watched  the  illness 
and  the  courtship  as  keenly  as  though  they  were  to 
succeed  the  sick  Lady  Tristram  and  to  marry  the  new 
Lord.     Yet  a  single  garden-party  in  the  year  would 
represent  pretty  accurately  their  personal  stake  in  the 
matter.     If  you  live  on  crumbs,  a  good  big  crumb  is 
not  to  be  despised. 

Harry  Tristram  was  sorry  that  his  mother  must  die 
and  that  he  must  lose  her ;   the  confederates  had  be- 

[48] 


The  First  Round 

come  close  friends,  and  nobody  who  knew  her  inti- 
mately could  help  feeling  that  his  life  and  even  the 
world  would  be  poorer  by  the  loss  of  a  real,  if  not 
striking,  individuality.  But  neither  he  nor  she  thought 
of  her  death  as  the'  main  thing ;  it  no  more  than  ush- 
ered in  the  great  event  for  which  they  had  spent  years 
preparing.  And  he  was  downright  glad  that  she  could 
see  no  visitors;  that  fact  saved  him  added  anxieties, 
and  spared  her  the  need  of  being  told  about  Mina 
Zabriska  and  warned  to  bear  herself  warily  toward 
the  daughter  of  Madame  de  Kries.  Harry  did  not 
ask  his  mother  whether  she  remembered  the  name — 
the  question  was  unnecessary ;  nor  did  he  tell  his 
mother  that  one  who  had  borne  the  name  was  at 
Alerrion  Lodge.  He  waited,  vaguely  expecting  that 
trouble  would  come  from  Merrion,  but  entirely  con- 
fident in  his  ability  to  fight,  and  worst,  the  tricky  little 
woman  whom  he  had  not  feared  to  snub ;  and  in  his 
heart  he  thought  well  of  her,  and  believed  she  had  as 
little  inclination  to  hurt  him  as  she  seemed  to  have 
power.  His  only  active  step  was  to  pursue  his  atten- 
tions to  Janie  Iver. 

Yet  he  was  not  happy  about  his  attentions.  He 
meant  to  marry  the  girl,  and  thought  she  would  marry 
him.  He  did  not  believe  that  she  was  inclined  to  fall  in 
love  with  him.  He  had  no  right  to  expect  it,  since 
he  was  not  falling  in  love  with  her.  But  it  hurt  that 
terrible  pride  of  his ;  he  was  in  a  way  disgusted  with 
the  part  he  had  chosen,  and  humiliated  to  think  that 
he  might  not  be  accepted  for  himself.  A  refusal  would 
have  hurt  him  incalculably ;  such  an  assent  as  he 
counted  upon  would  wound  him  somewhat  too.  He 
had  keen  eyes,  and  he  had  formed  his  own  opinion 
about  Bob  Broadley.  None  the  less,  he  held  straight 
on  his  course ;  and  the  spinster  ladies  were  a  little 
shocked  to  observe  that  Lady  Tristram's  illness  did 

[49] 


Tristram   ^  Blent 

not  interfere  at  all  with  her  son's  courtship ;  people  in 
that  position  of  life  were  certainly  curious. 

A  new  vexation  had  come  upon  him,  the  work  of 
his  pet  aversions,  the  Gainsboroughs.  He  had  seen 
Mr  Gainsborough  once,  and  retained  a  picture  of  a 
small  ineffectual  man  with  a  ragged  tawny-brown 
beard  and  a  big  soft  felt  hat,  who  had  an  air  of  being 
very  timid,  rather  pressed  for  money,  and  endowed 
with  a  kind  heart.  Now,  it  seemed,  Mr  Gainsborough 
was  again  overflowing  with  family  alifection  (a  dispo- 
sition not  always  welcomed  by  its  objects),  and  wanted 
to  shake  poor  Lady  Tristram's  hand,  and  wanted  poor 
Lady  Tristram  to  kiss  his  daughter — wanted,  in  fact, 
a  thorough-going  burying  of  hatchets  and  a  touching 
reconciliation.  With  that  justice  of  judgment  of  which 
neither  youth  nor  prejudice  quite  deprived  him,  Harry 
Hked  the  letter;  but  he  was  certain  that  the  writer 
would  be  immensely  tiresome.  And  again — in  the  end 
as  in  the  beginning — he  did  not  want  the  Gainsbor- 
oughs at  Blent ;  above  all  not  just  at  the  time  when 
Blent  was  about  to  pass  into  his  hands.  It  looked, 
however,  as  though  it  would  be  extremely  difficult  to 
keep  them  away.  Mr  Gainsborough  was  obviously  a 
man  who  would  not  waste  his  chance  of  a  funeral ;  he 
might  be  fenced  with  till  then,  but  it  would  need  star- 
tling measures  to  keep  him  from  a  funeral. 

"  I  hate  hearsey  people,"  grumbled  Harry,  as  he 
threw  the  letter  down.  But  the  Gainsboroughs  were 
soon  to  be  driven  out  of  his  head  by  something  more 
immediate  and  threatening. 

Blent  Pool  is  a  round  basin,  some  fifty  or  sixty  feet 
in  diameter ;  the  banks  are  steep  and  the  depth  great : 
on  the  Blent  Hall  side  there  is  no  approach  to  it, 
except  through  a  thick  wood  overhanging  the  water ; 
on  the  other  side  the  road  up  the  valley  runs  close 
by,  leaving  a  few  yards  of  turf  between  itself  and  the 

[50] 


The   First   Round 

brink.  The  scene  is  gloomy  except  in  sunshine,  and 
the  place  little  frequented.  It  was  a  favorite  haunt 
of  Harry  Tristram's,  and  he  lay  on  the  grass  one 
evening,  smoking  and  looking  down  on  the  black 
water;  for  the  clouds  were  heavy  above  and  rain 
threatened.  His  own  mood  was  in  harmony,  gloomy 
and  dark,  in  rebellion  against  the  burden  he  carried, 
yet  with  no  thought  of  laying  it  down.  He  did  not 
notice  a  man  who  came  up  the  road  and  took  his 
stand  just  behind  him,  w-aiting  there  for  a  moment 
in  silence  and  apparent  irresolution. 

"  Mr  Tristram." 

Harry  turned  his  head  and  saw  Major  Duplay ;  the 
Major  was  grave,  almost  solemn,  as  he  raised  his  hat 
a  trifle  in  formal  salute. 

"  Do  I  interrupt  you  ?  " 

"  You  couldn't  have  found  a  man  more  at  leisure." 
Harry  did  not  rise,  but  gathered  his  knees  up,  clasp- 
ing his  hands  round  them  and  looking  up  in  Duplay 's 
face.    "  You  want  to  speak  to  me  ?  " 

"  Yes,  on  a  difficult  matter."  A  visible  embarrass- 
ment hung  about  the  Major  ;  he  seemed  to  have  little 
liking  for  his  task.  "  I'm  aware,"  he  went  on,  "  that 
I  may  lay  myself  open  to  some  misunderstanding  in 
what  I'm  about  to  say.  I  shall  beg  you  to  remember 
that  I  am  in  a  difficult  position,  and  that  I  am  a  gen- 
tleman and  a  soldier." 

Harry  said  nothing;  he  waited  with  unmoved  face 
and  no  sign  of  perturbation. 

"  It's  best  to  be  plain,"  Duplay  proceeded.  "  It's 
best  to  be  open  with  you.  I  have  taken  the  liberty  of 
following  you  here  for  that  purpose."  He  came  a  step 
nearer,  and  stood  over  Harry.  "  Certain  facts  have 
come  to  my  knowledge  which  concern  you  very  in- 
timately." 

[51] 


Tristram  (?/' Blent 

A  polite  curiosity  and  a  slight  scepticism  were  ex- 
pressed in  Harry's  "  Indeed!  " 

"And  not  only  you,  or — I  need  hardly  say  —  I 
shouldn't  feel  it  necessary  to  occupy  myself  with  the 
matter.  A  word  about  my  own  position  you  will  per- 
haps forgive." 

Harry  frowned  a  little ;  certainly  Duplay  was  in- 
clined to  prolixity ;  he  seemed  to  be  rolling  the  situa- 
tion round  his  tongue  and  making  the  most  of  its 
flavor. 

"  Since  we  came  here  we  have  made  many  acquaint- 
ances, your  own  among  the  number;  we  are  in  a 
sense  your  guests." 

"  Not  in  a  sense  that  puts  you  under  any  obliga- 
tion," observed  Harry. 

"  I'm  sincerely  glad  to  hear  you  say  that ;  it  relieves 
my  position  to  some  extent.  But  we  have  made  friends 
too.  In  one  house  I  myself  (I  may  leave  my  niece 
out  of  the  question)  have  been  received  with  a  hearty, 
cordial,  warm  friendship  that  seems  already  an  old 
friendship.  Now  that  does  put  me  under  an  obliga- 
tion, Mr  Tristram." 

"  You  refer  to  our  friends  the  Ivers  ?    Yes  ?  " 

"  In  my  view,  under  a  heavy  obligation.  I  am,  I 
say,  in  my  judgment  bound  to  serve  them  in  all  ways 
in  my  power,  and  to  deal  with  them  as  I  should  wish 
and  expect  them  to  deal  with  me  in  a  similar  case." 

Harry  nodded  a  careless  assent,  and  turned  his  eyes 
away  toward  the  Pool ;  even  already  he  seemed  to 
know  what  was  coming,  or  something  of  it. 

"  Facts  have  come  to  my  knowledge  of  which  it 
might  be — indeed  I  must  say  of  which  it  is — of  vital 
importance  that  Mr  Iver  should  be  informed." 

"  I  thought  the  facts  concerned  me?"  asked  Harry, 
with  brows  a  little  raised. 

"  Yes,  and  as  matters  now  stand  they  concern  him 

[52] 


The   First  Round 

too  for  that  very  reason."  Duplay  had  gathered  con- 
fidence; his  tone  was  calm  and  assured  as  he  came 
step  by  step  near  his  mark,  as  he  estabUshed  position 
after  position  in  his  attack. 

"  You  are  paying  attentions  to  Miss  Iver — with  a 
view  to  marriage,  I  presume?  " 

Harry  made  no  sign.  Duplay  proceeded,  slowly 
and  with  careful  deliberation. 

"  Those  attentions  are  offered  and  received  as  from 
Mr  Tristram — as  from  the  future  Lord  Tristram  of 
Blent.  I  can't  believe  that  you're  ignorant  of  what 
I'm  about  to  say.  If  you  are,  I  must  beg  forgiveness 
for  the  pain  I  shall  inflict  on  you.  You,  sir,  are  not 
the  future  Lord  Tristram  of  Blent." 

A  silence  followed:  a  slight  drizzle  had  begun  to 
fall,  speckling  the  waters  of  the  Pool;  neither  man 
heeded  it. 

"  It  would  be  impertinent  in  me,"  the  Major  re- 
sumed, "  to  offer  you  any  sympathy  on  the  score  of 
that  misfortune ;  believe  me,  however,  that  my  knowl- 
edge— my  full  knowledge — of  the  circumstances  can 
incline  me  to  nothing  but  a  deep  regret.  But  facts 
are  facts,  however  hardly  they  may  bear  on  individ- 
uals." He  paused.  "  I  have  asserted  what  I  know. 
You  are  entitled  to  ask  me  for  proofs,  Mr  Tristram." 

Harry  was  silent  a  moment,  thinking  very  hard. 
Many  modes  of  defence  came  into  his  busy  brain  and 
were  rejected.  Should  he  be  tempestuous  ?  No. 
Should  he  be  amazed  ?  Again  no.  Even  on  his  own 
theory  of  the  story,  Duplay's  assertion  hardly  entitled 
him  to  be  amazed. 

"  As  regards  my  part  in  this  matter,"  he  said  at 
last,  "  I  have  only  this  to  say.  The  circumstances  of 
my  birth — with  which  I  am,  as  you  rightly  suppose, 
quite  familiar — were  such  as  to  render  the  sort  of  no- 
tion you  have  got  hold  of  plausible  enough.     I  don't 

[53] 


Tristram   (?/' Blent 

want  what  you  call  proofs — though  you'll  want  them 
badly  if  you  mean  to  pursue  your  present  line.  I  have 
my  own  proofs — perfectly  in  order,  perfectly  satisfac- 
tory. That's  all  I  have  to  say  about  my  part  of  the 
matter.  About  your  part  in  it  I  can,  I  think,  be  al- 
most equally  brief.  Are  you  merely  Mr  Iver's  friend, 
or  are  you  also,  as  you  put  it,  paying  attentions  to 
Miss  Iver?" 

"  That,  sir,  has  nothing  to  do  with  it." 

Harry  Tristram  looked  up  at  him.  For  the  first 
time  he  broke  into  a  smile  as  he  studied  Duplay's  face. 
"  I  shouldn't  in  the  least  wonder,"  he  said  almost 
chaffingly,  "  if  you  believed  that  to  be  true.  You  get 
hold  of  a  cock-and-bull  story  about  my  being  illegiti- 
mate (Oh,  I've  no  objection  to  plainness  either  in  its 
proper  place !),  you  come  to  me  and  tell  me  almost  in 
so  many  words  that  if  I  don't  give  up  the  lady  you'll 
go  to  her  father  and  show  him  your  precious  proofs. 
Everybody  knows  that  you're  after  Miss  Iver  yourself, 
and  yet  you  say  that  it  has  nothing  to  do  with  it! 
That's  the  sort  of  thing  a  man  may  manage  to  believe 
about  himself;  it's  not  the  sort  of  thing  that  other 
people  believe  about  him.  Major  Duplay."  He  rose 
slowly  to  his  feet  and  the  men  stood  face  to  face  on 
the  edge  of  the  Pool.  The  rain  fell  more  heavily: 
Duplay  turned  up  his  collar,  Harry  took  no  notice  of 
the  downpour. 

"  I'm  perfectly  satisfied  as  to  the  honesty  of  my  own 
motives,"  said  Duplay. 

"  That's  not  true,  and  you  know  it.  You  may  try 
to  shut  your  eyes,  but  you  can't  succeed." 

Duplay  was  shaken.  His  enemy  put  into  words 
what  his  own  conscience  had  said  to  him.  His  posi- 
tion was  hard :  he  was  doing  what  honestly  seemed 
to  him  the  right  thing  to  do :  he  could  not  seem  to  do 
it  because  it  was  right.     He  would  be  wronging  the 

[54] 


The   First  Round 

Ivers  if  he  did  not  do  it,  yet  how  ugly  it  could  be  made 
to  look !  He  was  not  above  suspicion  even  to  him- 
self, though  he  clung  eagerly  to  his  plea  of  honesty. 

"  You  fail  to  put  yourself  in  my  place "  he  began. 

"  Absolutely,  I  assure  you,"  Harry  interrupted,  with 
quiet  insolence. 

"  And  I  can't  put  myself  in  yours,  sir.  But  I  can 
tell  you  what  I  mean  to  do.  It  is  my  most  earnest 
wish  to  take  no  steps  in  this  matter  at  all ;  but  that 
rests  with  you,  not  with  me.  At  least  I  desire  to  take 
none  during  Lady  Tristram's  illness,  or  during  her 
life  should  she  unhappily  not  recover." 

"  My  mother  will  not  recover,"  said  Harry.  "  It's 
a  matter  of  a  few  weeks  at  most." 

Duplay  nodded.  "  At  least  wait  till  then,"  he  urged. 
"  Do  nothing  more  in  regard  to  the  matter  we  have 
spoken  of  while  your  mother  lives."  He  spoke  with 
genuine  feeling.  Harry  Tristram  marked  it  and  took 
account  of  it.    It  was  a  point  in  the  game  to  him. 

"  In  turn  I'll  tell  you  what  I  mean  to  do,"  he  said. 
"  I  mean  to  proceed  exactly  as  if  you  had  never  come 
to  Merrion  Lodge,  had  never  got  your  proofs  from 
God  knows  where,  and  had  never  given  me  the  pleas- 
ure of  this  very  peculiar  interview.  My  mother  would 
ask  no  consideration  from  you,  and  I  ask  none  for 
her  any  more  than  for  myself.  To  be  plain  for  the 
last  time,  sir,  you're  making  a  fool  of  yourself  at  the 
best,  and  at  the  worst  a  blackguard  into  the  bargain." 
He  paused  and  broke  into  a  laugh.  "  Well,  then, 
where  are  the  proofs?  Show  them  me.  Or  send 
them  down  to  Blent.  Or  I'll  come  up  to  Merrion. 
We'll  have  a  look  at  them — for  your  sake,  not  for 
mine." 

"  I  may  have  spoken  inexactly,  Mr  Tristram.  I 
know  the  facts ;  I  could  get,  but  have  not  yet  got, 
the  proof  of  them." 

[55] 


Tristram   (^/Blent 

"  Then  don't  waste  your  money,  Major  Duplay." 
He  waited  an  instant  before  he  gave  a  deeper  thrust. 
"  Or  Iver's — because  I  don't  think  your  purse  is  long 
enough  to  furnish  the  resources  of  war.  You'd  get 
the  money  from  him  ?  I'm  beginning  to  wonder  more 
and  more  at  the  views  people  contrive  to  take  of  their 
own  actions." 

Harry  had  fought  his  fight  well,  but  now  perhaps 
he  went  wrong,  even  as  he  had  gone  wrong  with  Mina 
Zabriska  at  Fairholme.  He  was  not  content  to  defeat 
or  repel  ;  he  must  triumph,  he  must  taunt.  The  in- 
solence of  his  speech  and  air  drove  Duplay  to  fury. 
If  it  told  him  he  was  beaten  now,  it  made  him  deter- 
mined not  to  give  up  the  contest ;  it  made  him  wish 
too  that  he  was  in  a  country  where  duelling  was  not 
considered  absurd.  At  any  rate  he  was  minded  to 
rebuke  Harry. 

"  You're  a  young  man "  he  began. 

"  Tell  me  that  when  I'm  beaten.  It  may  console 
me,"  interrupted  Harry. 

"  You'll  be  beaten,  sir,  sooner  than  you  think,"  said 
Duplay  gravely.  "  But  though  you  refuse  my  ofifer, 
I  shall  consider  Lady  Tristram.  I  will  not  move  while 
she  lives,  unless  you  force  me  to  it." 

"By  marrying  the  heiress  you  want?"  sneered 
Harry. 

"  By  carrying  out  your  swindling  plans."  Duplay's 
temper  began  to  fail  him.  "  Listen.  As  soon  as  your 
engagement  is  announced — if  it  ever  is — I  go  to  Mr 
Iver  with  what  I  know.  If  you  abandon  the  idea  of 
that  marriage,  you're  safe  from  me.  I  have  no  other 
friends  here ;  the  rest  must  look  after  themselves. 
But  you  shall  not  delude  my  friends  with  false  pre- 
tences." 

"  And  I  shall  not  spoil  your  game  with  Miss  Iver?  " 

Duplay's   temper   quite   failed  him.      He   had    not 

[56] 


The   First   Round 

meant  this  to  happen ;  he  had  pictured  himself  cahn, 
Harry  wild  and  unrestrained  —  either  in  fury  or  in 
supplication.  The  young  man  had  himself  in  hand, 
firmly  in  hand ;   the  elder  lost  self-control. 

"  If  you  insult  me  again,  sir,  I'll  throw  you  in  the 
river !  " 

Harry's  slow  smile  broke  across  his  face.  With  all 
his  wariness  and  calculation  he  measured  the  Major's 
figure.  The  attitude  of  mind  was  not  heroic ;  it  was 
Harry's.  Who,  having  ten  thousand  men,  will  go 
against  him  that  has  twenty  thousand  ?  A  fool  or  a 
hero,  Harry  would  have  said,  and  he  claimed  neither 
name.  But  in  the  end  he  reckoned  that  he  was  a 
match  for  the  Major.  He  smiled  more  broadly  and 
raised  his  brows,  asking  of  sky  and  earth  as  he  glanced 
round : 

"  Since  when  have  blackmailers  grown  so  sensi- 
tive?" 

In  an  instant  Duplay  closed  with  him  in  a  struggle 
on  which  hung  not  death  indeed,  but  an  unpleasant 
and  humiliating  ducking.  The  rain  fell  on  both  ;  the 
water  waited  for  one.  The  Major  was  taller  and 
heavier;  Harry  was  younger  and  in  better  trim. 
Harry  was  cooler  too.  It  was  rude  hugging,  noth- 
ing more ;  neither  of  them  had  skill  or  knew  more 
tricks  than  the  common  dimly  remembered  devices  of 
urchinhood.  The  fight  was  most  unpicturesque,  most 
unheroic ;  but  it  was  tolerably  grim  for  all  that.  The 
grass  grew  slippery  under  the  rain  and  the  slithering 
feet ;  luck  had  its  share.  And  just  behind  them  ran 
the  Queen's  highway.  They  did  not  think  of  the 
Queen's  highway.  To  this  pass  a  determination  to  be 
calm,  whatever  else  they  were,  had  brought  them. 

The  varying  wriggles  (no  more  dignified  word  is 
appropriate)  of  the  encounter  ended  in  a  stern  stiff 
grip  which  locked  the  men  one  to  the  other,  Duplay 

[57] 


Tristram   ^  Blent 

facing  down  the  valley,  Harry  looking  up  the  river. 
Harry  could  not  see  over  the  Major's  shoulder,  but 
he  saw  past  it,  and  sighted  a  tall  dog-cart  driven 
quickly  and  rather  rashly  down  the  hill.  It  was  rain- 
ing hard  now,  and  had  not  looked  like  rain  when  the 
dog-cart  started.  Hats  were  being  ruined — there  was 
some  excuse  for  risking  broken  knees  to  the  horse 
and  broken  necks  to  the  riders.  In  the  middle  of  his 
struggle  Harry  smiled :  he  put  out  his  strength  too ; 
and  he  did  not  warn  his  enemy  of  what  he  saw;  yet 
he  knew  very  well  who  was  in  the  dog-cart.  Duplay's 
anger  had  stirred  him  to  seek  a  primitive  though 
effective  revenge.  Harry  was  hoping  to  inflict  a  more 
subtle  punishment.  He  needed  only  a  bit  of  luck  to 
help  him  to  it ;  he  knew  how  to  use  the  chance  when 
it  came — just  as  well  as  he  knew  who  was  in  the  dog- 
cart, as  well  as  he  guessed  whence  the  dog-cart  came. 

The  luck  did  not  fail.  Duplay's  right  foot  slipped. 
In  the  effort  to  recover  himself  he  darted  out  his  left 
over  the  edge  of  the  bank.  Harry  impelled  him  ;  the 
Major  loosed  his  hold  and  set  to  work  to  save  himself 
— none  too  soon  :  both  his  legs  were  over,  his  feet 
touched  water,  he  lay  spread-eagled  on  the  bank,  half 
on,  half  off,  in  a  ludicrous  attitude;  still  he  slipped 
and  could  not  get  a  hold  on  the  short  slimy  grass.  At 
that  moment  the  dog-cart  was  pulled  up  just  behind 
them. 

"What  are  you  doing?"  cried  Janie  Iver,  leaning 
forward  in  amazement ;  Mina  Zabriska  sat  beside  her 
with  wide-open  eyes.  Harry  stooped,  caught  the 
Major  under  the  shoulders,  and  with  a  great  effort 
hauled  him  up  on  the  bank,  a  sad  sight,  draggled  and 
dirty.  Then,  as  Duplay  slowly  rose,  he  turned  with 
a  start,  as  though  he  noticed  the  new-comers  for  the 
first  time.     He  laughed  as  he  raised  his  cap. 

"  We  didn't  know  we  were  to  have  spectators,"  said 

[58] 


The  First  Round 

he.  "  And  you  nearly  came  in  for  a  tragedy !  He 
was  all  but  gone.    Weren't  you,  Major  ?  " 

"  What  were  you  doing?  "  cried  Janie  again.  Mina 
was  silent  and  still,  scrutinizing  both  men  keenly. 

"  Why,  we  had  been  talking  about  wrestling,  and 
the  Major  offered  to  show  me  a  trick  which  he  bet  a 
shilling  would  floor  me.  Only  the  ground  was  too 
slippery  ;  wasn't  it.  Major  ?  And  the  trick  didn't  ex- 
actly come  ofif.  I  wasn't  floored,  so  I  must  trouble 
you  for  a  shilling,  Major." 

Major  Duplay  did  not  look  at  Janie,  still  less  did 
he  meet  his  niece's  eye.  He  spent  a  few  seconds  in  a 
futile  effort  to  rub  the  mud  ofif  his  coat  with  muddy 
hands ;   he  glanced  a  moment  at  Harry. 

"  I  must  have  another  try  some  day,"  he  said,  but 
with  no  great  readiness. 

"  Meanwhile — the  shilling !  "  demanded  Harry  good- 
humoredly,  a  subtle  mockery  in  his  eyes  alone  show- 
ing the  imaginary  character  of  the  bet  which  he 
claimed  to  have  won. 

In  the  presence  of  those  two  inquisitive  young 
women  Major  Duplay  did  not  deny  the  debt.  He 
felt  in  his  pocket,  found  a  shilling,  and  gave  it  to 
Harry  Tristram.  That  young  man  looked  at  it,  spun 
it  in  the  air,  and  pocketed  it. 

"  Yes,  a  revenge  whenever  you  like,"  said  he. 
"  And  now  we'd  better  get  home,  because  it's  begun 
to  rain." 

"  Begun  to !  It's  rained  for  half-an-hour,"  said 
Janie  crossly. 

"  Has  it  ?  I  didn't  notice.  I  was  too  busy  with  the 
Major's  trick." 

As  he  spoke  he  looked  full  in  Mina  Zabriska's  face. 
She  bore  his  glance  for  a  moment,  then  cried  to  Janie, 
"  Oh,  please  drive  on  !  "  The  dog-cart  started  ;  the 
Major,  with  a  stiff  touch  of  his  hat,  strode  along  tlic 

[5V] 


Tristram  of  Blent 

road.  Harry  was  left  alone  by  the  Pool.  His  gayety 
and  defiance  vanished ;  he  stood  there  scowling  at  the 
Pool.  On  the  surface  the  honors  of  the  encounter 
were  indeed  his ;  the  real  peril  remained,  the  real  bat- 
tle had  still  to  be  fought.  It  was  with  heart-felt  sin- 
cerity that  he  muttered,  as  he  sought  for  pipe  and 
tobacco : 

"  I  wish  I'd  drowned  the  beggar  in  the  Pool !  " 


[60] 


VI 

The  Attraction  of  It 

MR  JENKINSON  NEELD  sat  at  lunch  at 
the  Imperium  Club,  quite  happy  with  a  neck 
chop,  last  week's  Athcnccum,  and  a  pint  of 
Apollinaris.     To  him  enter  disturbers  of  peace. 

"  How  are  you,  Neeld  ?  "  said  Lord  Southend,  tak- 
ing the  chair  next  him.  "  Sit  down  here,  Iver.  Let 
me  introduce  you — Mr  Iver — Mr  Neeld.  Bill  of  faie, 
waiter."  His  lordship  smiled  rather  maliciously  at  Mr 
Neeld  as  he  made  the  introduction,  which  Iver  ac- 
knowledged with  bluff  courtesy,  Neeld  with  a  timid 
little  bow.  "  How  are  things  down  your  way  ?  "  pur- 
sued Southend,  addressing  Iver.  "  Lady  Tristram's 
very  ill,  I  hear?  " 

"  I'm  afraid  so." 

"  Wonderful  woman  that,  you  know.  You  ought 
to  have  seen  her  in  the  seventies — when  she  ran  away 
with  Randolph  Edge." 

A  gentleman,  two  tables  off,  looked  round. 

"  Hush,  Southend !  That's  his  brother,"  whispered 
Mr  Neeld. 

"Whose  brother?"  demanded  Southend. 

"  That's  Wilmot  Edge— Sir  Randolph's  brother." 

"  Oh,  the  deuce  it  is.     I  thought  he'd  been  pilled." 

Blackballs  also  were  an  embarrassing  subject ; 
Neeld  sipped  his  Apollinaris  nervously. 

"  Well,  as  I  was  saying  "  (Lord  Southend  spoke  a 
little  lower),  "  she  went  straight  from  the  Duchess  of 
Slough's  ball  to  the  station,  as  she  was,  in  a  low  gown 

[6i] 


Tristram   oJ^  Blent 

and  a  scarlet  opera  cloak — met  Edge,  whose  wife  had 
only  been  dead  three  months — and  went  off  with  him. 
You  know  the  rest  of  the  story.  It  was  a  near  run 
for  young  Harry  Tristram!     How  is  the  boy,  Iver?  " 

"  The  boy's  very  much  of  a  man  indeed ;  we  don't 
talk  about  the  near  run  before  him." 

Southend  laughed.  "  A  miss  is  as  good  as  a  mile," 
he  said,  "eh,  Neeld?  I'd  like  to  see  Addie  Tristram 
again — though  I  suppose  she's  a  wreck,  poor  thing!  " 

"  Why  couldn't  she  marry  the  man  properly,  instead 
of  bolting?  "  asked  Iver.  He  did  not  approve  of  such 
escapades. 

"  Oh,  he  had  to  bolt  anyhow — a  thorough  bad  lot 
— debts,  you  know — her  people  wouldn't  hear  of  it ; 
besides  she  was  engaged  to  Fred  Nares — you  don't 
remember  Fred?  A  devilish  passionate  fellow,  with 
a  wart  on  his  nose.  So  altogether  it  was  easier  to 
cut  and  run.  Besides  she  liked  the  sort  of  thing,  don't 
you  know.  Romantic  and  all  that.  Then  Edge  van- 
ished, and  the  other  man  appeared.  That  turned  out 
all  right,  but  she  ran  it  fine.    Eh,  Neeld?  " 

Mr  Neeld  was  sadly  flustered  by  these  recurring 
references  to  him.  He  had  no  desire  to  pose  as  an 
authority  on  the  subject.  Josiah  Cholderton's  diary 
put  him  in  a  dififiiculty.  He  wished  to  goodness  he  had 
been  left  to  the  peaceful  delights  of  literary  jour- 
nalism. 

"  Well,  if  you'll  come  down  to  my  place,  I  can 
promise  to  show  you  Harry  Tristram ;  and  you  can 
go  over  and  see  his  mother  if  she's  better." 

"  By  Jove,  I've  half  a  mind  to!  Very  kind  of  you, 
Iver.     You've  got  a  fine  place,  I  hear." 

"  I've  built  so  many  houses  for  other  people  that  I 
may  be  allowed  one  for  myself,  mayn't  I  ?  We're 
proud  of-  our  neighborhood,"  he  pursued,  politely  ad- 
dressing himself  "to  Mr  Neeld.     "If  you're  ever  that 

[62] 


The  Attraction  of  It 

way,  I  hope  you'll  look  me  up.  I  shall  be  delighted 
to  welcome  a  fellow-member  of  the  Imperium." 

A  short  chuckle  escaped  from  Lord  Southend's  lips ; 
he  covered  it  by  an  exaggerated  devotion  to  his  broiled 
kidneys.  Mr  Neeld  turned  pink  and  murmured  inco- 
herent thanks ;   he  felt  like  a  traitor. 

"  Yes,  we  see  a  good  deal  of  young  Harry,"  said 
Iver,  with  a  smile — "  and  of  other  young  fellows  about 
the  place  too.  They  don't  come  to  see  me,  though. 
I  expect  Janie's  the  attraction.  You  remember  my 
girl,  Southend  ?  " 

"  Well,  I  suppose  Blent's  worth  nine  or  ten  thou- 
sand a  year  still  ?  "  The  progress  of  Lord  Southend's 
thoughts  was  obvious. 

"  H'm.  Seven  or  eight,  I  should  think,  as  it's  man- 
aged now.  It's  a  nice  place,  though,  and  would  go  a 
good  bit  better  in  proper  hands." 

"Paterfamilias  considering?" 

"  I  don't  quite  make  the  young  fellow  out.  He's 
got  a  good  opinion  of  himself,  I  fancy."  Iver  laughed 
a  little.    "  Well,  we  shall  see,"  he  ended. 

"  Not  a  bad  thing  to  be  Lady  Tristram  of  Blent, 
you  know,  Iver.  That's  none  of  your  pinchbeck.  The 
real  thing — though,  as  I  say,  young  Harry's  only  got 
it  by  the  skin  of  his  teeth.    Eh,  Neeld?  " 

Mr  Neeld  laid  down  his  napkin  and  pushed  back 
his  chair. 

"  Sit  still,  man.  We've  nearly  finished,  and  we'll  all 
have  a  cup  of  cofYee  together  and  a  cigar." 

Misfortunes  accumulated,  for  Neeld  hated  tobacco. 
But  he  was  anxious  to  be  scrupulously  polite  to  Iver, 
and  thus  to  deaden  the  pangs  of  conscience.  Re- 
signed though  miserable,  he  went  with  them  to  the 
smoking-room.  Colonel  Wilmot  Edge  looked  up 
from  the  Army  and  Navy  Gazette,  and  glanced  curi- 
ously at  the  party  ^s  thev  passed  his  table.    Why  were 

^  [63] 


Tristram  of  Blent 

these  old  fellows  reviving  old  stories?  They  were  bet- 
ter left  at  rest.  The  Colonel  groaned  as  he  went  back 
to  his  newspaper. 

Happily,  in  the  smoking-room  the  talk  shifted  to 
less  embarrassing  subjects.  Iver  told  of  his  life  and 
doings,  and  Neeld  found  himself  drawn  to  the  man: 
he  listened  with  interest  and  appreciation ;  he  seemed 
brought  into  touch  with  life ;  he  caught  himself  sigh- 
ing over  the  retired  inactive  nature  of  his  own  occu- 
pations. He  forgave  Iver  the  hoardings  about  the 
streets ;  he  could  not  forgive  himself  the  revenge  he 
had  taken  for  them.  Iver  and  Southend  spoke  of  big 
schemes  in  which  they  had  been  or  were  engaged 
together — legitimate  enterprises,  good  for  the  nation 
as  well  as  for  themselves.  How  had  he,  a  useless  old 
fogy,  dared  to  blackball  a  man  like  Iver?  An  occa- 
sional droll  glance  from  Southend  emphasized  his 
compunction. 

"  I  see  you've  got  a  new  thing  coming  out,  Neeld," 
said  Southend,  after  a  pause  in  the  talk.  "  I  remem- 
ber old  Cholderton  very  well.  He  was  a  starchy  old 
chap,  but  he  knew  his  subjects.  Makes  rather  heavy 
reading,  I  should  think,  eh?" 

"  Not  all  of  it,  not  by  any  means  all  of  it,"  Neeld 
assured  him.  "  He  doesn't  confine  himself  to  business 
matters." 

"  Still,  even  old  Joe  Cholderton's  recreations " 

"  He  was  certainly  mainly  an  observer,  but  he  saw 
some  interesting  things  and  people."  There  was  a  re- 
newed touch  of  nervousness  in  Mr  Neeld's  manner. 

"  Interesting  people?  H'm.  Then  I  hope  he's  dis- 
creet ?  " 

"  Or  that  Mr  Neeld  will  be  discreet  for  him,"  Iver 
put  in.  "  Though  I  don't  know  why  interesting  peo- 
ple are  supposed  to  create  a  need  for  discretion." 

"  Oh  yes,  you   do,   Iver.     You   know   the   world. 

[64] 


The  Attraction  of  It 

Don't  you  be  too  discreet,  Neeld.  Give  us  a  taste  of 
Joe's  lighter  style." 

Neeld  did  not  quite  approve  of  his  deceased  and 
respected  friend  being  referred  to  as  "  Joe,"  nor  did 
he  desire  to  discuss  in  that  company  what  he  had  and 
what  he  had  not  suppressed  in  the  Journal. 

"  I  have  used  the  best  of  my  judgment,"  he  said 
primly,  and  was  surprised  to  find  Iver  smiling  at  him 
with  an  amused  approval. 

"  The  least  likely  men  break  out,"  Lord  Southend 
continued  hopefully.  "  The  Baptist  minister  down  at 
my  place  once  waylaid  the  wife  of  the  Chairman  of 
Quarter  Sessions  and  asked  her  to  run  away  with 
him." 

"  That's  one  of  your  Nonconformist  stories,  South- 
end.   I  never  believe  them,"  said  Iver. 

"  Oh,  I'm  not  saying  anything.  She  was  a  pretty 
woman.  I  just  gave  it  as  an  illustration.  I  happen  to 
know  it's  true,  because  she  told  me  herself." 

"  Ah,  I'd  begin  to  listen  if  he'd  told  you,"  was  Iver's 
cautious  comment. 

"  You  give  us  the  whole  of  old  Joe  Cholderton ! " 
was  Lord  Southend's  final  injunction. 

"  Imagine  if  I  did !  "  thought  Neeld,  beginning  to 
feel  some  of  the  joy  of  holding  a  secret. 

Presently  Southend  took  his  leave,  saying  he  had 
an  engagement.  To  his  own  surprise  Neeld  did  not 
feel  this  to  be  an  unwarrantable  proceeding;  he  sat 
on  with  Iver,  and  found  himself  cunningly  encourag- 
ing his  companion  to  talk  again  about  the  Tristrams. 
The  story  in  the  Journal  had  not  lost  its  interest  for 
him  ;  he  had  read  it  over  more  than  once  again  ;  it  was 
strange  to  be  brought  into  contact,  even  at  second- 
hand, with  the  people  whose  lives  and  fortunes  it 
concerned.  It  w^as  evident  that  Iver,  on  his  side,  had 
for  some  reason  been  thinking  of  the  Tristrams  too, 

[65] 


Tristram  of  Blent 

and  he  responded  readily  to  Neeld's  veiled  invitation. 
He  described  Blent  for  him  ;  he  told  him  how  Lady 
Tristram  had  looked,  and  that  her  illness  was  sup- 
posed to  be  fatal ;  he  talked  again  of  Harry  Tristram, 
her  destined  successor.  But  he  said  no  more  of  his 
daughter.  Neeld  was  left  without  any  clear  idea  that 
his  companion's  concern  with  the  Tristrams  was  more 
than  that  of  a  neighbor  or  beyond  what  an  ancient 
family  with  odd  episodes  in  its  history  might  naturally 
inspire. 

"  Oh,  you  must  come  to  Blentmouth,  Mr  Neeld, 
you  must  indeed.  For  a  few  days,  now?  Choose 
your  time,  only  let  it  be  soon.  Why,  if  you  made 
your  way  into  the  library  at  Blent,  you  might  happen 
on  a  find  there !  A  lot  of  interesting  stuff  there,  I'm 
told.    And  we  shall  be  very  grateful  for  a  visit." 

Neeld  was  conscious  of  a  strong  desire  to  go  to 
Blentmouth.  But  it  would  be  a  wrong  thing  to  do ; 
he  felt  that  he  could  not  fairly  accept  Iver's  hospitality. 
And  he  felt,  moreover,  that  he  had  much  better  not 
get  himself  mixed  up  wath  the  Tristrams  of  Blent. 
No  man  is  bound  to  act  on  hearsay  evidence,  espe- 
cially when  that  evidence  has  been  acquired  through 
a  confidential  channel.  But  if  he  came  to  know  the 
Tristrams,  to  know  Harry  Tristram,  his  position  would 
certainly  be  peculiar.  Well,  that  was  in  the  end  why 
he  wanted  to  do  it. 

Iver  rose  and  held  out  his  hand.  "  I  must  go," 
he  said.  "  Fairholme,  Blentmouth !  I  hope  I  shall 
have  a  letter  from  you  soon,  to  tell  us  to  look  out  for 
you." 

One  of  the  unexpected  likings  that  occur  between 
people  had  happened.  Each  man  felt  it  and  recog- 
nized it  in  the  other.  They  were  alone  in  the  room 
for  the  moment. 

"  Mr  Iver,"  said  Neeld,  in  his  precise  prim  tones, 

[66] 


The  Attraction  of  It 

"  I  must  make  a  confession  to  you.  When  you  were 
up  for  this  club  I — my  vote  was  not  in  your  favor." 

During  a  minute's  silence  Iver  looked  at  him  with 
amusement  and  almost  with  affection. 

"  I'm  glad  you've  told  me  that." 

"  Well,  I'm  glad  I  have  too."  Neeld's  laugh  was 
nervous. 

"  Because  it  shows  that  you're  thinking  of  coming 
to  Blentmouth." 

"  Well — yes,  I  am,"  answered  Neeld,  smiling.  And 
they  shook  hands.  Here  was  the  beginning  of  a 
friendship ;  here,  also,  Neeld's  entry  on  the  scene 
where  Harry  Tristram's  fortunes  formed  the  subject 
of  the  play. 

It  was  now  a  foregone  conclusion  that  Mr  Neeld 
would  fall  before  temptation  and  come  to  Blentmouth. 
There  had  been  little  doubt  about  it  all  along;  his 
confession  to  Iver  removed  the  last  real  obstacle.  The 
story  in  Josiah  Cholderton's  Journal  had  him  in  its 
grip ;  on  the  first  occasion  of  trial  his  resolution  not 
to  be  mixed  up  with  the  Tristrams  melted  away.  Per- 
haps he  consoled  himself  by  saying  that  he  would  be, 
like  his  deceased  and  respected  friend,  mainly  an  ob- 
server. The  Imp,  it  may  be  remembered,  had  gone 
to  Merrion  Lodge  with  exactly  the  same  idea ;  it  has 
been  seen  how  it  fared  with  her. 

By  the  Blent  the  drama  seemed  very  considerately 
to  be  waiting  for  him.  It  says  much  for  Major  Du- 
play  that  his  utter  and  humiliating  defeat  by  the  Pool 
liad  not  driven  him  into  any  hasty  action  or  shaken 
him  in  his  original  purpose.  He  was  abiding  by  the 
ofifer  which  he  had  made,  although  the  offer  had  been 
scornfully  rejected.  If  he  could  by  any  means  avoid 
it,  he  was  determined  not  to  move  while  Lady  Tris- 
tram lived.  Harry  might  force  him  to  act  sooner ; 
that  rested  with  Harry,  not  with  him.    Meanwhile  he 

[67] 


Tristram  ^  Blent 

declined  to  explain  even  to  Mina  what  had  occurred 
by  the  Pool,  and  treated  her  open  incredulity  as  to 
Harry's  explanation  with  silence  or  a  snub.  The 
Major  was  not  happy  at  this  time  ;  yet  his  unhappi- 
ness  was  nothing  to  the  deep  woe,  and  indeed  terror, 
which  had  settled  on  Mina  Zabriska.  She  had  guessed 
enough  to  see  that,  for  the  moment  at  least,  Harry 
had  succeeded  in  handling  Duplay  so  roughly  as  to 
delay,  if  not  to  thwart,  his  operations ;  what  would  he 
not  do  to  her,  whom  he  must  know  to  be  the  original 
cause  of  the  trouble?  She  used  to  stand  on  the  ter- 
race at  Merrion  and  wonder  about  this  ;  and  she  dared 
not  go  to  Fairholme  lest  she  should  encounter  Harry. 
She  made  many  good  resolutions  for  the  future,  but 
there  was  no  comfort  in  the  present  days. 

The  resolutions  went  for  nothing,  even  in  the  mo- 
ment in  which  they  were  made.  She  had  suffered  for 
meddling;  that  was  bad:  it  was  worse  to  the  Imp 
not  to  meddle ;  inactivity  was  the  one  thing  unen- 
durable. 

She  too,  like  old  Mr  Neeld  in  London  town,  was 
drawn  by  the  interest  of  th-e  position,  by  the  need  of 
seeing  how  Harry  Tristram  fought  his  fight.  For  four 
days  she  resisted ;  on  the  evening  of  the  fifth,  after 
dinner,  while  the  Major  dozed,  she  came  out  on  the 
terrace  in  a  cloak  and  looked  down  the  hill.  It  was 
rather  dark,  and  Blent  Hall  loomed  dimly  in  the  val- 
ley below.  She  pulled  the  hood  of  her  cloak  over  her 
head,  and  began  to  descend  the  hill :  she  had  no 
special  purpose ;  she  wanted  a  nearer  look  at  Blent, 
and  it  was  a  fine  night  for  a  stroll.  She  came  to  the 
road,  crossed  it  after  a  momentary  hesitation,  and 
stood  by  the  gate  of  the  little  foot-bridge,  which,  in 
the  days  before  enmity  arose,  Harry  Tristram  had  told 
her  was  never  locked.  It  was  not  now.  Mina  ad- 
vanced to  the  middle  of  the  bridge  and  leant  on  the 

[68] 


The  Attraction   of  It 

parapet,  her  eyes  set  on  Blent  Hall.  There  were  lights 
in  the  lower  windows ;  one  window  on  the  upper  floor 
was  lighted  too.  There,  doubtless,  Lady  Tristram  lay 
slowly  dying;  somewhere  else  in  the  house  Harry 
was  keeping  his  guard  and  perfecting  his  defences. 
The  absolute  peace  and  rest  of  the  outward  view,  the 
sleepless  vigilance  and  unceasing  battle  within,  a  bat- 
tle that  death  made  keener  and  could  not  lull  to  rest 
— this  contrast  came  upon  Mina  with  a  strange  pain- 
fulness ;  her  eyes  filled  with  tears  as  she  stood 
looking. 

A  man  came  out  into  the  garden  and  lit  a  cigar; 
she  knew  it  was  Harry ;  she  did  not  move.  He  saun- 
tered toward  the  bridge  ;  she  held  her  ground  ; 
though  he  should  strike  her,  she  would  have  speech 
with  him  to-night.  He  was  by  the  bridge  and  had 
his  hand  on  the  gate  at  the  Blent  end  of  it  before  he 
saw  her.  He  stood  still  a  moment,  then  came  to  her 
side,  and  leant  as  she  was  leaning  over  the  parapet. 
He  was  bare-headed — she  saw  his  thick  hair  and  his 
peaked  forehead ;  he  smoked  steadily ;  he  showed  no 
surprise  at  seeing  her,  and  he  did  not  speak  to  her 
for  a  long  time.  At  last,  still  without  looking  at  her, 
he  began.  She  could  just  make  out  his  smile,  or 
thought  she  could ;  at  any  rate  she  was  sure  it  was 
there. 

"  Well,  Mina  de  Kries  ?  "  said  he.  She  started  a 
little.  "  Oh,  I  don't  believe  in  the  late  Zabriska ;  I 
don't  believe  you're  grown  up;  I  think  you're  about 
fifteen — a  beastly  age."  He  put  his  cigar  back  in  his 
mouth. 

"  You  see  that  window  ?  "  he  resumed  in  a  moment. 
"  And  you  know  what's  happening  behind  it  ?  My 
mother's  dying  there.  Well,  how's  the  Major  ?  Has 
he  got  that  trick  in  better  order  yet  ?  " 

She  found  her  tongue  with  difficulty. 

[69] 


Tristram  <?/ Blent 

"Does  Lady  Tristram  know  about — about  me?" 
she  stammered. 

"  I  sometimes  lie  to  my  mother,"  said  Harry,  flick- 
ing his  ash  into  the  river.  "  Why  do  you  He  to  your 
uncle,  though  ?  " 

"  I  didn't  lie.    You  know  I  didn't  lie." 

He  shrugged  his  shoulders  wearily  and  relapsed 
into  silence.  Silence  there  was  till,  a  minute  or  two 
later,  it  was  broken  by  a  little  sob  from  Mina  Zabriska. 
He  turned  his  head  toward  her ;  then  he  took  hold 
of  her  arm  and  twisted  her  face  round  to  him.  The 
tears  were  running  down  her  checks. 

"  I'm  so,  so  sorry,"  she  murmured.  "  I  didn't  mean 
to ;  and  I  did  it !  And  now — now  I  can't  stop  it. 
You  needn't  believe  me  if  you  don't  like,  but  I'm — • 
I'm  miserable  and — and  frightened." 

He  flung  his  cigar  into  the  water  and  put  his  hands 
in  his  pockets.  So  he  stood  watching  her,  his  body 
swaying  a  little  to  and  fro ;  his  eyes  were  suspicious 
of  her,  yet  they  seemed  amused  also,  and  they  were 
not  cruel ;  it  was  not  such  a  look  as  he  had  given  her 
when  they  parted  by  the  Pool. 

"  If  it  were  true?"  she  asked.  "  I  mean,  couldn't 
Lady  Tristram  somehow ?" 

"  If  what  was  true  ?  Oh,  the  nonsense  you  told 
Duplay  ?  "  He  laughed.  "  If  it  was  true,  I  should  be 
a  nobody  and  nobody's  son.  I  suppose  that  would 
amuse  you  very  much,  wouldn't  it?  You  wouldn't 
have  come  to  Merrion  for  nothing  then !  But  as  it 
isn't  true,  what's  the  use  of  talking?  " 

He  won  no  belief  from  her  when  he  said  that  it 
was  not  true ;  to  her  quick  mind  the  concentrated 
bitterness  with  which  he  described  what  it  would 
mean  to  him  showed  that  he  believed  it  and  that  the 
thought  was  no  new  one ;  in  imagination  he  had 
heard  the  world  calling  him  many  times  what  he  now 

[70] 


The   Attraction  of  It 

called  himself — if  the  thing  were  true.  She  drew  her 
cloak  round  her  and  shivered. 

"Cold?"  he  asked. 

"  No.    Wretched,  wretched." 

"Would  you  like  to  see  my  mother?" 

"  You  wouldn't  let  her  see  me  ?  " 

"  She's  asleep,  and  the  nurse  is  at  supper — not  that 
she'd  matter.     Come  along." 

He  turned  and  began  to  walk  quickly  toward  the 
house ;  Mina  followed  him  as  though  in  a  dream. 
They  entered  a  large  hall.  It  was  dark,  save  for  one 
candle,  and  she  could  see  nothing  of  its  furniture.  He 
led  her  straight  up  a  broad  oak  staircase  that  rose 
from  the  middle  of  it,  and  then  along  a  corridor.  The 
polished  oak  gleamed  here  and  there  as  they  passed 
candles  in  brackets  on  the  wall,  and  was  slippery  un- 
der her  unaccustomed  feet.  The  whole  house  was 
very  still — still,  cool,  and  very  peaceful. 

Cautiously  he  opened  a  door  and  beckoned  her  to 
follow  him.  Lights  were  burning  in  the  room.  Lady 
Tristram  lay  sleeping ;  her  hair,  still  fair  and  golden, 
spread  over  the  pillow ;  her  face  was  calm  and  un- 
lined.  She  seemed  a  young  and  beautiful  girl  wasted 
by  a  fever ;  but  the  fever  was  the  fever  of  life  as  well 
as  of  disease.  Thus  Mina  saw  again  the  lady  she  had 
seen  at  Heidelberg. 

"  She  won't  wake — she's  had  her  sleeping  draught," 
he  said ;  and  Mina  took  him  to  mean  that  she  might 
linger  a  moment  more.  She  cast  her  eyes  round  the 
room.  Over  the  fireplace,  facing  the  bed,  was  a  full- 
length  portrait  of  a  girl.  She  was  dressed  all  in  red  ; 
the  glory  of  her  white  neck,  her  brilliant  hair,  and 
her  blue  eyes  rose  out  of  the  scarlet  setting.  This 
was  Addie  Tristram  in  her  prime ;  as  she  was 
when  she  fled  with  Randolph  Edge,  as  she  was 
when    she    cried    in    the    little    room    at    Heidelberg, 

[71] 


Tristram  ^Blent 

"  Think  of  the  difference  it  makes,  the  enormous 
difference !  " 

"  My  mother  hkes  to  have  that  picture  there," 
Harry  explained. 

The  sleeping  woman  stirred  faintly.  In  obedience 
to  a  look  from  Harry,  Mina  followed  him  from  the 
room,  and  they  passed  downstairs  and  through  the 
hall  together  in  silence.  He  came  with  her  as  far  as 
the  bridge.  There  he  paused.  The  scene  they  had 
left  had  apparently  stirred  no  new  emotion  in  him ; 
but  Mina  Zabriska  was  trembling  and  moved  to  the 
heart. 

"  Now  you've  seen  her — and  before  that  you'd  seen 
me.  And  perhaps  now  you'll  understand  that  we're 
the  Tristrams  of  Blent,  and  that  we  live  and  die  that." 
His  voice  grew  a  little  louder.  **  And  your  nonsense  !  " 
he  exclaimed  ;  "  it's  all  a  lie.  But  if  it  was  true  ?  It's 
the  blood,  isn't  it,  not  the  law,  that  matters  ?  It's  her 
blood  and  my  blood.    That's  my  real  title  to  Blent !  " 

In  the  midst  of  his  lying  he  spoke  truth  there,  and 
Mina  knew  it.  It  seemed  as  though  there,  to  her,  in 
the  privacy  of  that  night,  he  lied  as  but  a  matter  of 
form ;  his  true  heart,  his  true  purpose,  and  his  true 
creed  he  showed  her  in  his  last  words.  By  right 
of  blood  he  claimed  to  stand  master  of  Blent,  and  so 
he  meant  to  stand. 

"  Yes,"  she  said.  "  Yes,  yes.  God  help  you  to  it." 
She  turned  and  left  him,  and  ran  up  the  hill,  catching 
her  breath  in  sobs  again. 

Harry  Tristram  stood  and  watched  her  as  long  as 
he  could  see  her  retreating  figure.  There  were  no 
signs  of  excitement  about  him ;  even  his  confession 
of  faith  he  had  spoken  calmly,  although  with  strong 
emphasis.  He  smiled  now  as  he  turned  on  his  heel 
and  took  his  way  back  to  the  house. 

"  The  Major  must  play  his  hand  alone  now,"  he 

[72] 


The   Attraction   of   It 

said ;  "  he'll  get  no  more  help  from  her."  He  paused 
a  moment.  "  It's  a  funny  thing,  though.  That's  not 
really  why  I  took  her  up." 

He  shook  his  head  in  puzzle ;  perhaps  he  could 
hardly  be  expected  to  recognize  that  it  was  that  pride 
of  his — pride  in  his  mother,  his  race,  himself — which 
had  made  him  bid  Mina  Zabriska  look  upon  Lady 
Tristram  as  she  slept. 


[7Z] 


VII 

The  Moment  Draws  Near 

NOT    knowing   your    own    mind,    though    gen- 
erally referred  to  as  an  intellectual  weakness 
and  sometimes  as  a  moral  fault,  is  none  the 
less  now  and  then  a  pleasant  state  to  live  in  for  a 
while.     There  is  a  richness  of  possibility  about  it,  a 
variety  of  prospects  open,  a  choice  of  roads  each  in 
its  own  fashion  attractive.     Besides,  you  can  always 
tell  yourself  that  it  is  prudent  to  look  all  round  the 
question  and  consider  all  alternatives.     The  pleasure, 
hke  most  pleasures,  is  greater  when  it  comes  once  in 
a  way  to  a  person  unaccustomed  to  it.    Janie  Iver  had 
been  brought  up  to  know  her  own  mind  ;    it  was  the 
eleventh  commandment  in  the  Iver  household.     Iver 
entertained  the  intellectual,  his  wife  the  moral  objec- 
tion   to    shilly-shallying;    their    daughter's    training, 
while  conducted  with  all  kindness,  had  been  eminently 
sensible,  and  early  days  had  offered  few  temptations 
to   stray   from   the   path   of  the   obviously   desirable. 
The  case  was  different  now ;  riches  brought  a  change, 
the  world  revealed  its  resources,  life  was  spreading 
out  its  diverse  wares.    Janie  was  much  puzzled  as  to 
what  she  ought  to  do,  more  as  to  what  she  wanted  to 
do,  most  of  all  as  to  what  she  would  in  the  end  do — 
unless  indeed  the  fact  that  she  was  puzzled  continued 
to  rank  as  the  greatest  puzzle  of  all. 

Naturally  the  puzzles  were  personified — or  the  per- 
sons made  into  puzzles.  Men  became  lives  to  her,  as 
well   as   individuals — the   Tristram,   the    Duplay,   the 

[74] 


The   Moment   Draws   Near 

Broadley  life ;  her  opinion  of  the  Hfe  comphcated  her 
feeling  toward  the  person.  The  Tristram  life  at- 
tracted her  strongly,  the  life  of  the  great  lady ;  Harry 
had  his  fascination  too ;  but  she  did  not  think  that 
she  and  Harry  would  be  very  happy  together,  woman 
and  man.  She  was  loth  to  let  him  go,  with  all  that 
he  meant ;  perhaps  she  would  have  been  secretly  re- 
lieved if  fate  had  taken  him  away  from  her.  The 
Duplay  life  promised  another  sort  of  joy  :  the  Major's 
experience  was  world-wide,  his  knowledge  various, 
his  conversation  full  of  hints  of  the  unexplored ;  she 
would  be  broadening  her  life  if  she  identified  it  with 
his.  Yet  the  Major  was  an  approximate  forty  (on  one 
side  or  the  other),  in  a  few  years  would  seem  rather 
old,  and  was  not  even  now  capable  of  raising  a  very 
strong  sentiment ;  there  too  she  would  be  taking 
rather  the  life  than  the  man.  Lastly  there  was  that 
quiet  Broadley  life,  to  be  transformed  in  some  degree, 
doubtless,  by  her  wealth,  but  likely  to  remain  in  es- 
sentials the  peaceful  homely  existence  which  she  knew 
very  well.  It  had  little  to  set  against  the  rival  pros- 
pects ;  yet  there  was  a  feeling  that  in  either  of  the 
other  two  existences  she  would  miss  something;  and 
that  something  seemed  to  be  Bob  Broadley  himself. 

She  found  herself  thinking,  in  terms  superficially 
repugnant  to  convention,  that  she  would  like  to  pay 
long  visits  to  the  other  men,  but  have  Bob  to  come 
home  to  when  she  was  inclined  for  rest  and  tran- 
quillity. Her  perplexity  was  not  strange  in  itself,  but 
it  was  strange  and  new  to  her ;  imbued  with  the 
parental  views  about  shilly-shallying,  she  was  angry 
with  herself  and  inclined  to  be  ashamed.  The  excuse 
she  had  made  to  Mina  Zabriska  did  not  acquit  her 
in  her  own  eyes.  Yet  she  was  also  interested,  ex- 
cited, and  pleasantly  awake  to  the  importance  which 
her  indecision  gave  her. 

[75] 


f 


Tristram  of  Blent 

Judged  from  the  outside,  she  was  not  open  to  blame 
in  her  attitude  toward  Harry ;  he  was  not  in  love 
with  her,  and  hardly  pretended  to  be.  She  met  him 
fairly  on  a  friendly  footing  of  business ;  he  was  the 
sinner  in  that,  while  what  she  offered  was  undoubtedly 
hers,  what  he  proposed  to  give  in  return  was  only 
precariously  his. 

Nor  had  Duplay  any  cause  of  complaint  in  being 
kept  waiting;  he  would  be  held  exceedingly  lucky 
not  to  be  sent  to  the  right-about  instantly.  But  with 
Bob  Broadley  the  matter  was  different.  On  the  sub- 
tle question  of  what  exactly  constitutes  "  encourage- 
ment "  (it  is  the  technical  term)  in  these  cases  it  is 
not  perhaps  necessary  to  enter ;  but  false  hopes  might, 
no  doubt,  arise  from  her  visits  to  Mingham,  from  her 
habit  of  riding  up  the  road  by  the  river  about  the 
time  when  Bob  would  be  likely  to  be  riding  down  it, 
or  of  sauntering  by  the  Pool  on  the  days  when  he 
drove  his  gig  into  Blentmouth  on  business — all  this 
being  beyond  and  outside  legitimate  meetings  at  Fair- 
holme  itself.  Unless  she  meant  to  marry  him  she 
might  indeed  raise  hopes  that  were  false. 

Yes,  but  it  did  not  seem  as  though  she  did.  Bob  was 
humble.  She  had  tyrannized  over  him  even  before 
the  Ivers  grew  so  very  rich.  (They  had  begun  in  a 
small  villa  at  Blentmouth — Miss  Swinkerton  lived 
there  now.)  It  was  natural  that  she  should  tyran- 
nize still.  He  saw  that  she  liked  to  meet  him  ;  grate- 
ful for  friendship,  he  was  incredulous  of  more.  His 
disposition  may  plead  in  excuse  for  her ;  whatever  she 
did,  she  would  not  disappoint  a  confident  hope. 

But  she  was  always  so  glad  to  see  him,  and  when  she 
was  with  him,  he  was  no  perplexity,  he  was  only  her 
dear  old  friend.  Well,  and  one  thing  besides — a  man 
whom  it  was  rather  amusing  to  try  to  get  a  compli- 
ment out  of,  to  try  to  torment  into  a  manifestation  of 

[76] 


The  Moment  Draws   Near 

devotion ;  it  was  all  there ;  Janie  liked  to  lure  it  to 
the  surface  sometimes.  But  Bob  was  not  even  visibly 
miserable ;  he  was  always  equable,  even  jolly,  with 
so  much  to  say  about  his  horses  and  his  farm  that 
sentiment  did  not  always  secure  its  fair  share  of  the 
interview.  Janie,  not  being  sentimental  either,  liked 
all  this  even  while  it  affronted  her  vanity. 

"  Send  the  gig  home  and  stay  and  talk,"  she 
commanded,  as  he  stopped  by  her  on  the  road ;  he 
was  returning  from  Blentmouth  to  Mingham  and 
found  her  strolling  by  the  Pool.  "  I  want  to  speak 
to  you." 

He  had  his  bailifif  with  him — they  had  been  selling  a 
cow — and  left  him  to  take  the  gig  home.  He  shook 
hands  with  frank  cordiality. 

"That's  awfully  nice  of  you,"  he  said.  "What 
about  ? " 

"  Nothing  in  particular,"  said  she.  "  Mayn't  I  want 
it  just  generally  ?  " 

"  Oh,  well,  I  thought  you  meant  there  was  something 
special.     I've  sold  the  cow  well.  Miss  Janie." 

"  Bother  the  cow !  Why  haven't  you  been  to  Fair- 
holme  ?  " 

"  Well,  in  fact,  I'm  not  sure  that  Mr  Iver  is  death  on 
seeing  me  there  too  often.  But  I  shall  turn  up  all  right 
soon." 

"  Have  you  been  going  about  anywhere  ?  " 

"  No.    Been  up  at  Mingham  most  of  the  time." 

"  Isn't  that  rather  lonely?  " 

"  Lonely?  Good  Heavens,  no!  I've  got  too  much 
to  do." 

Janie  glanced  at  him ;  what  was  to  be  done  with  a 
man  who  treated  provocative  suggestions  as  though 
they  were  sincere  questions  ?  If  he  had  not  cared  for 
her  now !    But  she  knew  he  did. 

"  Well,  I've  been  very  dull,  anyhow.     One  never 

[77] 


Tristram  of  Blent 

sees  anybody  fresh  at  Fairholme  now.  It's  always 
either  Mr.  Tristram  or  Major  Duplay." 

"  Well,  I  shouldn't  be  very  fresh  either,  should  I?" 
The  names  she  mentioned  drew  no  sign  from  him. 

"  I  don't  count  you  as  a  visitor  at  all — and  they  are 
visitors,  I  suppose."  She  seemed  a  Httle  in  doubt ;  yet 
both  the  gentlemen,  at  any  rate,  were  not  presumably 
received  as  members  of  the  family. 

"  I'll  tell  you  what  I've  been  thinking  about,"  said 
Bob,  speaking  slowly,  and  apparently  approaching  a 
momentous  announcement. 

"  Yes,"  she  said,  turning  to  him  with  interest,  and 
watching  his  handsome  open  face  ;  it  was  not  a  very 
clever  face,  but  it  was  a  very  pleasant  one  ;  she  enjoyed 


looking  at  it. 


I've  been  thinking  that  I'll  sell  the  black  horse,  but 
I  can't  make  up  my  mind  whether  to  do  it  now  or  keep 
him  through  the  summer  and  sell  him  when  hunting 
begins.    I  don't  know  which  would  pay  me  best." 

"  That  certainly  is  a  very  important  question,"  re- 
marked Janie,  with  a  wealth  of  sarcasm. 

"  Well,  it  gives  me  a  lot  of  trouble,  Miss  Janie." 

"  Does  it?  And  it  doesn't  interest  me  in  the  very — 
Yes,  it  does.  Bob,  very  much.  I'm  sorry.  Of  course 
it  does.    Only " 

"  Anything  the  matter  with  you  ?  "  Bob  inquired 
with  friendly  solicitude. 

"  No — not  just  now.  There  never  is,  somehow,  when 
I'm  with  you.  And  let's  talk  about  the  black  horse — 
it'll  be  soothing.    Is  the  price  of  oats  a  factor?  " 

Bob  laughed  a  little,  but  did  not  proceed  with  the 
discussion.  They  sauntered  on  in  silence  for  a  few 
minutes.  Bob  taking  out  his  tobacco. 

"  Worried,  aren't  you?  "  he  asked,  lighting  his  pipe. 

"  Yes,"  she  answered  shortly. 

"  Was  that  what  you  wanted  to  say  to  me  ?  " 

[78] 


The  Moment  Draws  Near 

"  No,  of  course  not ;  as  if  I  should  talk  to  you 
about  it ! " 

"  Don't  suppose  you  would,  no.  Still,  we're  friends, 
aren't  we  ?  " 

"  Do  you  feel  friendly  to  me?  " 

"  Friendly  !    Well !  "    He  laughed.    "  What  do 

you  think  about  it  yourself?  "  he  asked.  "  Look  here, 
I  don't  bother  you,  but  I'm  here  when  you  want  me." 

"  When  I  want  you  ?  " 

"  I  mean,  if  I  can  do  anything  for  you,  or — or  advise 
you.    I  don't  think  I'm  a  fool,  you  know." 

"  I'm  really  glad  to  hear  you've  got  as  far  as  that," 
she  remarked  rather  tartly.  "  Your  fault.  Bob,  is  not 
thinking  nearly  enough  of  yourself." 

"  You'll  soon  change  that,  if  you  say  much  more." 
His  pleasure  in  her  implied  praise  was  obvious,  but  he 
did  not  read  a  single  word  more  into  her  speech  than 
the  words  she  uttered. 

"  And  you  are  friendly  to  me — still  ?  " 

"  It  doesn't  make  any  difference  to  me  whether  I  see 
you  or  not- 


(i 


What  ?  "  she  cried.  The  next  moment  she  was 
laughing.  "  Thanks,  Bob,  but — but  you've  a  funny 
way  of  putting  things  sometimes."  She  laid  her  hand 
on  his  arm  for  a  moment,  sighing,  "  Dear  old  Bob !  " 

"  Oh,  you  know  what  I  mean,"  he  said,  puffing  away. 
His  healthy  skin  had  flushed  a  trifle,  but  that  was  his 
only  reply  to  her  little  caress. 

"  If — if  I  came  to  you  some  day  and  said  I'd  been  a 
fool,  or  been  made  a  fool  of,  and  was  very  unhappy,  and 
— and  wanted  comforting,  would  you  still  be  nice  to 
me?" 

His  answer  came  after  a  pufif  and  a  pause. 

"  Well,  if  you  ever  get  like  that,  I  should  recommend 
you  just  to  try  me  for  what  I'm  worth,"  he  said.  Her 
eyes  were  fixed  on  his  face,  but  he  did  not  look  at  her. 

[79] 


Tristram  of  Blent 

Some  men  would  have  seen  in  her  appeal  an  oppor- 
tunity of  trying  to  win  from  her  more  than  she  was 
giving.  The  case  did  not  present  itself  in  that  light  to 
Bob  Broadley.  He  did  not  press  his  own  advantage, 
he  hardly  believed  in  it ;  and  he  had,  besides,  a  vague 
idea  that  he  would  spoil  for  her  the  feeling  she  had  if 
he  greeted  it  with  too  much  enthusiasm.  What  she 
wanted  was  a  friend — a  solid,  possibly  rather  stolid, 
friend ;  with  that  commodity  he  was  prepared  to  pro- 
vide her.  Any  sign  of  agitation  in  her  he  answered 
and  hoped  to  quiet  by  an  increased  calm  in  his  own 
manner.  The  humblest  of  men  have  moments  of  pride  ; 
it  must  be  confessed  that  Bob  thought  he  was  behaving 
not  only  with  proper  feeling  but  also  with  considerable 
tact — a  tact  that  was  based  on  knowledge  of  women. 
Interviews  such  as  these — and  they  were  not  infre- 
quent— formed  a  rather  incongruous  background,  but 
also  an  undeniable  relief,  to  the  life  Janie  was  leading 
at  Fairholme.  That  seemed  to  have  little  concern  with 
Bod  Broadley  and  to  be  engrossed  in  the  struggle  be- 
tween Harry  and  Duplay.  Both  men  pressed  on. 
Harry  had  not  been  scared  away.  Duplay  would  win 
without  using  his  secret  weapon,  if  he  could.  Each  had 
his  manner ;  Harry's  constrained  yet  direct ;  the 
Major's  more  florid,  more  expressed  in  glances,  com- 
pliments, and  attentions.  Neither  had  yet  risked  the 
decisive  word.  Janie  was  playing  for  delay.  '  The 
Major  seemed  inclined  to  grant  it  her  ;  he  would  make 
every  step  firm  under  him  before  he  took  another  for- 
ward. But  Harry  grev/  impatient,  was  imperious  in  his 
calls  on  her  time,  and  might  face  her  with  the  demand 
for  an  answer  any  day.  She  could  not  explain  how  it 
was,  but  somehow  his  conduct  seemed  to  be  influenced 
by  the  progress  of  Lady  Tristram's  illness.  She 
gathered  this  idea  from  words  he  let  fall  ;  perhaps  his 
mother  wanted  to  see  the  affair  settled  before  she  died. 

[80] 


The  Moment  Draws  Near 

Duplay  often  spoke  of  the  illness  too ;   it  could  have 
no  importance  for  him  at  least,  she  thought. 

About  Harry  Tristram  anyhow  she  was  right.  He 
was  using  to  its  full  value  his  rival's  chivalrous  desire  to 
make  no  movement  during  Lady  Tristram's  lifetime ; 
he  reckoned  on  it  and  meant  to  profit  by  it.  The  Major 
had  indeed  conveyed  to  him  that  the  chivalry  had  its 
limits ;  even  if  that  were  so,  Harry  would  be  no  worse 
ofif ;  and  there  was  the  chance  that  Duplay  would  not 
speak.  A  look  of  brutality  would  be  given  to  any  action 
of  his  while  Lady  Tristram  lay  dying  ;  Harry  hoped  this 
aspect  of  his  conduct  would  frighten  him.  At  least  it 
was  worth  risking.  The  doctors  talked  of  two  months 
more  ;  Harry  Tristram  meant  to  be  engaged  before  one 
of  them  was  out.  Could  he  be  married  before  the  sec- 
ond ran  its  course  ?  Mrs  Iver  would  have  scoffed  at  the 
idea,  and  Janie  shrunk  from  it.  But  a  dying  mother's 
appeal  would  count  with  almost  irresistible  strength  in 
such  a  case ;  and  Harry  was  sure  of  being  furnished 
with  this  aid. 

He  came  to  Fairholme  a  day  or  two  after  Janie  had 
talked  with  Bob  Broadley.  She  was  on  the  lawn  ;  with 
her  Mina  Zabriska  and  a  small,  neat,  elderly  man,  who 
was  introduced  to  him  as  Mr  Jenkinson  Neeld.  Harry 
paid  little  attention  to  this  insignificant  person,  and 
gave  Mina  no  more  than  a  careless  shake  of  the  hand 
and  a  good-humored  amused  nod  ;  he  was  not  afraid  of 
her  any  longer.  She  had  done  what  harm  she  could.  If 
she  did  anything  more  now  it  would  be  on  his  side. 
Else  why  had  he  shown  her  Lady  Tristram  ?  He 
claimed  Janie  and  contrived  to  lead  her  to  some  chairs 
on  the  other  side  of  the  lawn. 

"  And  that's  Mr  Harry  Tristram  ?  "  said  Neeld,  look- 
ing at  him  intently  through  his  spectacles. 

"  Yes,"  said  the  Imp  briefly — she  was  at  the  moment 
ra,ther  bored  by  Mr.  Neeld. 

[8i] 


Tristram  of  Blent 

"  An  interesting-looking  young  man." 

"  Yes,  he's  interesting."  And  she  added  a  moment 
later,  "  You're  having  a  good  look  at  him,  Mr 
Neeld." 

"  Dear  me,  was  I  staring?  I  hope  not.  But — wdl, 
we've  all  heard  of  his  mother,  you  know." 

"  I'm  afraid  the  next  thing  we  hear  about  her  will  be 
the  last."  What  she  had  seen  at  Blent  Hall  was  in  hef 
mind  and  she  spoke  sadly.  "  Mr  Tristram  will  succeed 
to  his  throne  soon  now." 

Neeld  looked  at  her  as  if  he  were  about  to  speak,  but 
he  said  nothing,  and  his  eyes  wandered  back  to  Harry 
again. 

"  They're  friends — Miss  Iver  and  he  ?  "  he  asked  at 
last. 

"  Oh,  it's  no  secret  that  he  wants  to  marry  her." 

"And  does  she ?" 

Mina  laughed,  not  very  naturally.  "It's  something 
to  be  Lady  Tristram  of  Blent."  She  smiled  to  think 
how  much  more  her  words  meant  to  herself  than  they 
could  mean  to  her  companion.  She  would  have  been 
amazed  to  find  that  Neeld  was  thinking  that  she  would 
not  speak  so  lightly  if  she  knew  what  he  did. 

Harry  wanted  to  marry  Janie  Iver !  With  a  sudden 
revulsion  of  feeling  Neeld  wished  himself  far  from 
Blentmouth.  However  it  was  his  duty  to  talk  to  this 
sharp  little  foreign  woman,  and  he  meant  to  try.  A 
few  polite  questions  brought  him  to  the  point  of  in- 
quiring her  nationality. 

"  Oh,  we're  Swiss,  French  Swiss.  But  I  was  born  at 
Heidelberg.  My  mother  lived  there  after  my  father 
died.  My  uncle — who  lives  with  me — Major  Duplay, 
is  her  brother ;  he  was  in  the  Swiss  Service." 

"  A  pleasant  society  at  Heidelberg,  I  dare  say  ?  " 

"  Rather  dull,"  said  Mina.  It  seemed  much  the  same 
at  Blentmouth  at  the  moment. 

[82] 


The  Moment  Draws  Near 

Iver  strolled  out  from  his  study  on  to  the  lawn.  He 
cast  a  glance  toward  his  daughter  and  Harry,  frowned 
slightly,  and  sat  down  on  Mina's  other  side.  He  had  a 
newspaper  in  his  hand,  and  he  held  it  up  as  he  spoke  to 
Neeld  across  Mina. 

"Your  book's  promised  for  the  15th,  I  see,  Neeld." 

"  Yes,  it's  to  be  out  then." 

Mina  was  delighted  at  being  presented  with  a  topic. 
Sometimes  it  is  the  most  precious  of  gifts. 

"  Oh,  Mr  Neeld,  have  you  written  a  book  ?  How  in- 
teresting !    What  is  it  ?    A  novel  ?  " 

"  My  dear  Madame  Zabriska !  "  murmured  Neeld, 
feeling  as  if  he  were  being  made  fun  of.  "  And  it's  not 
really  my  book.    I've  only  edited  it." 

"  But  that's  just  as  good,"  Mina  insisted  amiably. 
"  Do  tell  me  what  it  is." 

"  Here  you  are,  Mina.  There's  the  full  title  and 
description  for  you.  There's  nothing  else  in  the  paper." 
Iver  handed  it  to  her  with  a  stifled  yawn.  She  read  and 
turned  to  Neeld  with  a  quick  jerk  of  her  head. 

"  Journal  and  Correspondence  of  Josiah  Cholder- 
ton !  "  she  repeated.  "  Oh,  but — oh,  but — well,  that  is 
curious  !    Why,  we  used  to  know  Mr  Choldcrton !  " 

"  You  knew  Mr  Choldcrton  ?  "  said  Mr  Neeld  in 
mild  surprise.  Then,  with  a  recollection,  he  added, 
"  Oh,  at  Heidelberg,  I  dare  say  ?  But  you  must  have 
been  a  child?" 

"  Yes,  I  was.    Does  he  talk  about  Heidelberg?  " 

"  He  mentions  it  once  or  twice."  In  spite  of  himself 
Neeld  began  to  feel  that  he  was  within  measurable 
distance  of  getting  on  to  difficult  ground. 

"  What  fun  if  he  mentioned  me !  Oh,  but  of  course 
he  wouldn't  say  anything  about  a  child  of  five !  " 

The  slightest  start  ran  through  Neeld's  figure  ;  it 
passed  unnoticed.  He  looked  sharply  at  Mina  Zabriska. 
She  went  on,  in  all  innocence  this  time;   she  had  no 

[83] 


Tristram  ^  Blent 

reason  to  think  that  Cholderton  had  been  in  possession 
of  any  secrets,  and  if  he  had,  it  would  not  have  occurred 
to  her  that  he  would  record  them. 

"  He  knew  my  mother  quite  well ;  he  used  to  come 
and  see  us.  Does  he  mention  her — Madame  de 
Kries?" 

There  was  a  perceptible  pause ;  then  Neeld  answered 
primly: 

"  I'm  afraid  you  won't  find  your  mother's  name  men- 
tioned in  Mr.  Cholderton's  Journal,  Madame  Za- 
briska." 

"  How  horrid ! "  remarked  Mina,  greatly  disap- 
pointed; she  regarded  Mr  Neeld  with  a  new  interest 
all  the  same. 

They  were  both  struck  with  this  strange  coincidence 
— as  it  seemed  to  them  ;  though  in  fact  that  they  should 
meet  at  Blentmouth  was  not  properly  a  coincidence 
at  all.  There  was  nothing  surprising  about  it ;  the 
same  cause  and  similar  impulses  had  brought  them 
both  there.  The  woman  who  lay  dying  at  Blent  and 
the  young  man  who  sat  making  love  under  the  tree 
yonder — these  and  no  more  far-fetched  causes — had 
brought  them  both  where  they  were.  Mina  knew  the 
truth  about  herself,  Neeld  about  himself ;  neither  knew 
or  guessed  it  about  the  other.  Hence  their  wonder  and 
their  unreasonable  feeling  that  there  was  something  of 
a  fate  bringing  them  together  in  that  place. 

"  You're  sure  he  says  nothing  about  us  ? "  she 
urged. 

"  You'll  not  find  a  word,"  he  replied,  sticking  to 
the  form  of  assertion  that  salved  his  conscience.  He 
looked  across  the  lawn  again,  but  Janie  and  Harry  had 
disappeared  amongst  the  bushes. 

"  You're  sort  of  old  acquaintances  at  second-hand, 
then,"  said  Iver,  smiling.  '"'  Cholderton's  the  con- 
necting link." 

[84] 


The  Moment  Draws  Near 

"  He  didn't  like  me,"  remarked  Mina.  "  He  used  to 
call  me  the  Imp." 

"  Yes,  yes,"  said  Neeld  in  absent-minded  acquies- 
cence.   "  Yes,  the  Imp." 

"  You  don't  seem  much  surprised !  "  cried  Mina  in 
mock  indignation. 

"  Surprised  ?  "     He  started  more  violently.     "  Oh, 

yes — I — I —  Of  course  !    I'm "  A  laugh  from  his 

host  spared  him  the  efifort  of  further  apologies.  But 
he  was  a  good  deal  shaken  ;  he  had  nearly  betrayed  his 
knowledge  of  the  Imp.  Indeed  he  could  not  rid  him- 
self of  the  idea  that  there  was  a  very  inquisitive  look  in 
Madame  Zabriska's  large  eyes. 

Mina  risked  one  more  question,  put  very  carelessly. 

"  I  think  he  must  have  met  Lady  Tristram  there  once 
or  twice.    Does  he  say  anything  about  her?  " 

"  Not  a  word,"  said  Neeld,  grasping  the  nettle  firmly 
this  time. 

Mina  took  another  look  at  him,  but  he  blinked  reso- 
lutely behind  his  glasses. 

"  Well,  it's  just  like  Mr  Cholderton  to  leave  out  all 
the  interesting  things,"  she  observed  resignedly. 
"  Only  I  wonder  why  you  edit  his  book  if  it's  like  that, 
you  know." 

"  Hello,  what's  that  ?  "  exclaimed  Iver,  suddenly 
sitting  up  in  his  chair. 

They  heard  the  sound  of  a  horse's  galloping  on  the 
road  outside.  The  noise  of  the  hoofs  stopped  sud- 
denly. They  sat  listening.  In  a  minute  or  two  the 
butler  led  a  groom  in  the  Tristram  livery  on  to  the  lawn. 
He  came  quickly  across  to  Iver,  touching  his  hat. 

"  Beg  pardon,  sir,  but  could  I  see  Mr  Tristram  ?  I've 
an  important  message  for  him." 

At  the  same  moment  Janie  and  Harry  Tristram  came 
out  on  to  the  grass.  Harry  saw  the  groom  and  was 
with  them  in  a  moment,  Janie  following. 

[85] 


Tristram  ^' Blent 

"  Well,  Sam,  what  is  it  ?    You  were  riding  hard." 

"  Her  ladyship  has  had  a  relapse,  sir,  and  Dr  Fryer 
ordered  me  to  ride  over  and  tell  you  at  once.  No  time 
to  lose,  he  said,  sir." 

"  Did  you  bring  a  horse  for  me  ?  " 

"  No,  sir.    But  I'm  riding  Quilldriver." 

"  I'll  go  back  on  him.  You  can  walk."  He  turned 
to  the  rest.  '*  I  must  go  at  once,"  he  said.  "  I  don't 
know  what  this  may  mean." 

"  Not  so  bad  as  it  sounds,  I  hope,"  said  Iver.  "  But 
you'd  best  be  off  at  once." 

Harry  included  Mina  and  Mr  Neeld  in  one  light  nod, 
and  walked  briskly  toward  the  gate,  Iver  and  Janie  ac- 
companying him.  Mina  and  Neeld  were  left  together, 
and  sat  in  silence  some  moments. 

"  It  sounds  as  if  she  was  dying,"  said  Mina  at  last  in 
a  low  voice. 

"  Yes,  poor  woman  !  " 

"  I  saw  her  once  lately.  She  was  very  beautiful,  Mr 
Neeld." 

"  Yes,  yes,  to  her  own  great  trouble,  poor  thing !  " 

"  You  knew  about ?  " 

"  Oh,  everybody  knew,  Madame  Zabriska." 

"  Yes,  and  now  she's  dying!  "  She  turned  to  him, 
looking  him  fairly  in  the  face.  "  And  Harry'll  be 
Tristram  of  Blent,"  she  said. 

"  Yes,"  said  Neeld.    "  He'll  be  Tristram  of  Blent." 

Both  fell  into  silence  again,  lookingly  absently  at  the 
sunshine  playing  among  the  trees.  They  were  not  to 
share  their  secret  just  yet.  A  link  was  missing  be- 
tween them  still. 

Harry  came  to  where  the  horse  was,  and  stood  there 
for  a  moment,  while  the  groom  altered  the  stirrups  to 
suit  him. 

"  It's  the  beginning  of  the  end,  if  not  the  end  itself," 
he  said. 

[86] 


The  Moment  Draws   Near 

"  Our  earnest  good  wishes  to  her." 

"  My  love,"  said  Janie.  Her  father  glanced  quickly 
at  her. 

Harry  jumped  into  the  saddle,  waved  his  hand  to 
them,  and  started  at  a  gallop  for  Blent.  The  groom, 
with  another  touch  of  his  hat,  trudged  off  in  his  mas- 
ter's track.  Janie  Iver  stood  looking  as  long  as  Harry 
was  in  sight. 

"  He  won't  spare  the  horse,"  said  Iver. 

"  Well,  he  can't  this  time  ;  and  anyhow  he  wouldn't, 
if  he  wanted  to  get  there."  She  took  her  father's  arm 
and  pressed  it.  "Father,  Harry  Tristram  has  just  asked 
me  to  marry  him.  He  said  Lady  Tristram  wanted  it 
settled  before — before  she  died,  or  he  wouldn't  have 
spoken  so  soon." 

"Well,  Janie  dear?" 

"  When  the  groom  came,  I  had  just  told  him  that  I 
would  give  him  an  answer  in  a  week.  But  now !  "  She 
made  a  gesture  with  her  free  hand ;  it  seemed  to  mean 
bewilderment.  She  could  not  tell  what  would  happen 
now. 


[87] 


VIII 

Duty  and  Mr.  Neeld 

WHEN  Mina  Zabriska  brought  back  the  news 
from  Fairholme,  and  announced  it  with  an 
intensity  of  significance  which  the  sudden 
aggravation  of  an  illness  long  known  to  be  mortal 
hardly  accounted  for,  Major  Duplay  grew  very 
solemn.  The  moment  for  action  approached,  and  the 
nearer  it  came,  the  less  was  the  Major  satisfied  with 
his  position  and  resources.  The  scene  by  the  Pool  had 
taught  him  that  he  would  have  a  stifif  fight.  He  had 
been  hard  hit  by  Harry's  shrewd  suggestion  that  he 
must  ask  Iver  himself  for  the  means  of  proving  what 
he  meant  to  tell  Iver.  The  only  alternative,  however, 
was  to  procure  money  for  the  necessary  investigations 
from  his  niece ;  and  his  niece,  though  comfortably  ofif, 
was  not  rich.  Nor  was  she  any  longer  zealous  in  the 
cause.  The  Imp  was  sulky  and  sullen  with  him,  sorry 
she  had  ever  touched  the  affair  at  all,  ready,  he  sus- 
pected, to  grasp  at  any  excuse  for  letting  it  drop.  This 
temper  of  hers  foreboded  a  refusal  to  open  her  purse. 
It  was  serious  in  another  way.  Of  himself  Duplay 
knew  nothing;  Mina  was  his  only  witness;  her 
evidence,  though  really  second-hand,  was  undoubtedly 
weighty ;  it  would  at  least  make  inquiries  necessary. 
But  would  she  give  it  ?  Duplay  was  conscious  that  she 
was  capable  of  turning  round  on  him  and  declaring 
that  she  had  made  a  blunder.  If  she  did  that,  what 
would  happen?     Duplay  was  sure  that   Harry  had 

[88] 


Duty  and  Mr   Neeld 

formal  proofs,  good  and  valid  prima  facie;  he  would 
need  Mina,  money,  and  time  to  upset  them.  There 
were  moments  when  the  Major  himself  wished  that  he 
had  relied  on  his  own  attractions,  and  not  challenged 
Harry  to  battle  on  any  issue  save  their  respective  power 
to  win  Janie  Tver's  affections.  But  it  seemed  too  late 
to  go  back.  Besides,  he  was  in  a  rage  with  Harry;  his 
defeat  by  the  Pool  rankled.  Harry,  as  usual,  had 
spared  his  enemy  none  of  the  bitterness  of  defeat ; 
Duplay  would  now  take  pleasure  in  humbling  him 
for  the  sake  of  the  triumph  itself,  apart  from  its  effect 
on  the  Ivers,  father  and  daughter.  But  could  he  do  it  ? 
He  abode  by  the  conclusion  that  he  was  bound  to  tr}'. 
but  he  was  not  happy  in  it. 

Harry's  attitude  would  be  simple.  He  would  at  the 
proper  time  produce  his  certificates,  testifying  to  the 
death  of  Sir  Randolph,  the  marriage  of  his  parents,  his 
own  birth.  The  copies  were  in  perfect  order  and  duly 
authenticated  ;  tl^,ev  were  evidence  in  themselves  ;  the 
originals  j^Jd  be'*lTa|L  and  would  bear  out  the  copies. 
All  this  hfro  been  welflboked  after,  and  Duplay  did  not 
doubt  it.  What  had  he  to  set  against  it  ?  Only  that  the 
third  certificate  was  false,  and  that  somewhere — 
neither  he  nor  even  Mina  knew  where — bearing  some 
dates — neither  he  nor  Mina  knew  what — there  must  be 
two  other  certificates — one  fatal  to  Harry's  case  as 
fixing  his  birth  at  an  earlier  date,  the  other  throwing 
at  least  grave  suspicion  on  it  by  recording  a  second 
ceremony  of  marriage.  But  where  were  these  certi- 
ficates? Conceivably  they  had  been  destroyed;  that 
was  not  likely,  but  it  was  possible.  At  any  rate,  to  find 
them  would  need  much  time  and  some  money.  On  re- 
flection, the  Major  could  not  blame  Harry  for  defying 
him  by  the  Pool. 

It  will  be  seen  that  the  information  which  Mina  had 
gleaned  from  her  mother,  and  filled  in  from  her  own 

[89J 


Tristram   ^  Blent 

childish  recollection,  was  not  so  minute  in  the  matter  of 
dates  as  that  which  Madame  de  Kries  had  given  at  the 
time  of  the  events  to  Mr  Cholderton,  and  which  was 
now  locked  away  in  the  drawer  at  Mr  Jenkinson 
Neeld's  chambers.  The  Major  would  have  been  ma- 
terially assisted  by  a  sight  of  that  document ;  it  would 
have  narrowed  the  necessary  area  of  inquiry  and  given 
a  definiteness  to  his  assertions  which  must  have  car- 
ried added  weight  with  Mr  Iver.  As  it  was,  be  began 
to  be  convinced  that  Mina  would  decline  to  remember 
any  dates  even  approximately,  and  this  was  all  she 
had  professed  to  do  in  her  first  disclosure.  Duplay 
acknowledged  that,  as  matters  stood,  the  betting  was 
in  favor  of  his  adversary. 

Mina,  being  sulky,  would  not  talk  to  her  uncle ;  she 
could  not  talk  to  Janie  Iver;  she  did  not  see  Harry, 
and  would  not  have  dared  to  talk  to  him  if  she  had. 
But  it  need  hardly  be  said  that  she  was  dying  to  talk  to 
somebody.  With  such  matters  on  hand,  she  strug- 
gled against  silence  like  soda-water  against  the  cork. 
Merely  to  stare  down  at  Blent  and  wonder'what  was 
happening  there  whetted  a  curiosity  it  could  not 
satisfy.  She  felt  out  of  the  game,  and  the  feeling  was 
intolerable.  As  a  last  resort,  in  a  last  effort  to  keep  in 
touch  with  it,  although  she  had  been  warned  that  she 
would  find  nothing  of  interest  to  her  in  the  volume, 
she  telegraphed  to  a  bookseller  in  London  to  send  her 
Mr.  Cholderton's  Journal.  It  came  the  day  after  it  was 
published,  four  days  after  she  had  made  Mr  Neeld's 
acquaintance,  and  while  Lady  Tristram,  contrary  to 
expectation,  still  held  death  at  arm's  length  and  lay 
looking  at  her  own  picture.  The  next  morning  Neeld 
received  a  pressing  invitation  to  go  to  tea  at  Merrion 
Lodge.  Withovit  a  moment's  hesitation  he  went ;  with 
him  too  all  resolutions  to  know  and  to  care  nothing 
further    about  the    matter  vanished    before  the  first 

[90] 


Duty  and  Mr   Neeld 

chance  of  seeing  more  of  it.  And  Mina  had  been  Mina 
de  Kries. 

She  received  him  in  the  library ;  the  Journal  lay  on 
the  table.  Something  had  restored  animation  to  her 
manner  and  malice  to  her  eyes ;  those  who  knew  her 
well  would  have  conjectured  that  she  saw  her  way  to 
making  somebody  uncomfortable.  But  there  was  also 
an  underlying  nervousness  which  seemed  to  hint  at 
something  beyond.  She  began  by  flattering  her  visitor 
outrageously  and  indulging  in  a  number  of  false  state- 
ments regarding  her  delight  with  the  Journal  and  the 
amusement  and  instruction  she  had  gained  from  it ; 
she  even  professed  to  have  mastered  the  Hygroxeric 
Method,  observing  that  a  note  by  the  Editor  put  the 
whole  thing  in  a  nutshell.  Much  pleased,  yet  vaguely 
disappointed,  Mr  Neeld  concluded  that  she  had  no 
more  to  say  about  the  visit  to  Heidelberg. 

The  Imp  turned  over  the  pages  leisurely  while  Neeld 
sipped  his  tea. 

"  I  see  you  put  little  asterisk  things  where  you 
leave  out  anything,"  she  observed.  "  That's  con- 
venient, isn't  it?  " 

"  I  think  it's  usual,"  said  he. 

"  And  another  thing  you  do — Oh,  you  really  are  a 
splendid  editor ! — you  put  the  date  at  the  top  of  every 
page — even  where  Mr  Cholderton's  entry  runs  over 
ever  so  many  pages.  He  is  rather  long  sometimes, 
isn't  he?" 

"  I've  always  found  the  date  at  the  top  of  the  page 
a  convenience  in  reading  myself,"  said  Mr  Neeld. 

"  Yes,  it  tells  you  just  where  you  are — and  where 
Mr  Cholderton  was."  She  laughed  a  little.  "  Yes, 
look  here,  page  365,  May  1875,  ^i^'s  at  Berlin!  Then 
there  are  some  asterisks  " — Mr  Neeld  looked  up  from 
his  tea — "  and  you  turn  over  the  page  "  (the  Imp 
turned  over  with  the  air  of  a  discoverer),  "  and  yon 

[91] 


Tristram  of  Blent 

find  him  at  Interlaken  in — why,  in  August,  Mr 
Neeld !  "  An  amiable  surprise  appeared  on  her  face, 
"  Where  was  he  in  between  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  I — I  suppose  he  stayed  at  Berlin." 

"  Oh,  perhaps.  No — look  here.  He  says,  '  I  had 
not  previously  met  Sir  Silas  Minting,  as  I  left  Berlin 
before  he  arrived  in  the  beginning  of  June.'  " 

The  Imp  laid  down  the  Journal,  leant  back  in  her 
chair,  and  regarded  Neeld  steadily. 

"  You  told  me  right,"  she  added ;  ''  I  don't  find  any 
mention  of  my  mother — nor  of  Heidelberg.  It's 
rather  funny  that  he  doesn't  mention  Heidelberg." 

She  poured  out  a  second  cup  of  tea  and — waited. 
The  first  part  of  her  work  was  done.  She  had  made 
Neeld  very  uncomfortable.  "  Because,"  she  added, 
after  she  had  given  her  previous  remarks  time  to  soak 
in,  "  between  May  and  August  1875  is  just  about  the 
time  I  remember  him  at  Heideiberg^he  time  when 
he  met  Mrs  Fitzhubert,  you  know." 

She  nodded  her  head  slightly  toward  the  window, 
the  window  that  looked  down  to  the  valley  and  gave 
a  view  of  the  house  where  Lady  Tristram  lay.  Mina 
was  keenly  excited  now.  Had  the  Journal  told 
Neeld  anything  ?  Was  that  the  meaning  of  his 
asterisks? 

"  There  was  something  about  his  visit  to  Heidel- 
berg, but  it  contained  nothing  of  public  interest, 
Madame  Zabriska,  and  in  my  discretion  I  omitted 
it." 

''  Why  didn't  you  tell  me  that  the  other  day  ?  You 
gave  me  to  understand  that  he  only  mentioned  Heidel- 
berg casually." 

"  I  may  have  expressed  myself '* 

"  And  did  he  mention  us?  " 

Neeld  rose  to  his  feet  and  took  a  turn  up  and  down 
the  room. 

[92] 


Duty  and  Mr  Neeld 

"  In  my  discretion  I  left  the  passage  out.  I  can 
answer  no  questions  about  it.  Please  don't  press  me, 
Madame  Zabriska." 

"  I  will  know,"  she  said  excitedly,  almost  angrily. 

Neeld  came  to  a  stand  opposite  her,  deep  perplexity 
expressing  itself  in  his  look  and  manner. 

"  Did  he  talk  about  us  ?  Did  he  talk  about  Lady 
Tristram  ?  " 

"  I  am  speaking  to  you,  and  to  you  only,  Madame 
Zabriska  ?  " 

"  Yes,  yes — to  me  only." 

"  He  did  mention  you,  and  he  did  speak  of  Lady 
Tristram." 

"  That's  why  you  weren't  surprised  when  I  told  you 
he  called  me  the  Imp !  "  She  smiled  a  moment,  and 
Neeld  smiled  too.  But  in  an  instant  she  was  eager 
again.    "  And  about  Lady  Tristram  ?  " 

"  It  was  no  use  reprinting  poor  Lady  Tristram's 
story."  He  sat  down  again,  trying  to  look  as  though 
the  subject  were  done  with ;  but  he  rubbed  his  hands 
together  nervously  and  would  not  meet  Mina's  eyes. 
There  was  a  long  pause  ;  Mina  rose,  took  the  Journal, 
put  it  in  the  cupboard  and  turned  the  key  on  it.  She 
came  back  and  stood  over  him. 

"  You  know?  "  she  said.  "  It  was  in  the  Journal? 
I'm  sure  you  know." 

"  Know  what?  "  Mr  Neeld  was  fighting  in  the  last 
ditch. 

"  But  I  don't  want  to  tell  you  unless  you  know !  No, 
I'm  sure  you  know  !  " 

"  And  do  you  know  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  know.    My  mother  told  me." 

They  understood  one  another  now.  Neeld  made  no 
further  pretence. 

"  You  mean  about  Harry  Tristram  ?"  he  asked,  sim- 
ply, but  in  a  low  voice. 

[93] 


Tristram  of  Blent 

"  Yes.  At  first  I  didn't  know  what  it  meant  to  him. 
But  I  know  now." 

Neeld  made  no  reply,  and  there  was  another  mo- 
ment of  silence.  Neeld  wore  a  restless,  timid,  uneasy 
air,  in  strong  contrast  to  the  resolute  intensity  of 
Mina's  manner ;  she  seemed  to  have  taken  and  to  keep 
the  upper  hand  of  him. 

"And  you  know  what  it  would  mean  to  him  ?  "  she 
asked. 

Neeld  nodded ;   of  course  he  knew  that. 

"  What  are  you  going  to  do  ?  " 

He  raised  his  hands  and  let  them  drop  again  in  a 
confession  that  he  did  not  know. 

"  I  knew,  and  I  told,"  she  said.  He  started  a 
little.  "  Yes,  I  told,  because  I  was  spiteful.  I  was  the 
Imp!  I've  never  been  happy  since  I  told.  Mr  Tris- 
tram knows  I've  told,  though  he  denies  there's  any- 
thing in  it.  But  he  knows  I've  told.  And  still  he's 
been  kind  to  me."    Her  voice  shook. 

"  You  told  ?    Whom  did  you  tell  ?  " 

"  Never  mind — or  guess,  if  you  can.  I  shan't  tell 
him  any  more.  I  shan't  help  him  any  more.  I  won't 
speak.  I  will  not  speak.  I'm  for  Mr  Tristram.  Thick 
and  thin,  I'm  for  Mr  Tristram  now."  She  came  a  step 
nearer  to  him.  "  The  man  I  told  may  try ;  but  I  don't 
think  he  can  do  much  without  us — without  me  and 
without  you.  If  we  keep  quiet,  no,  he  can't  do  much. 
Why  should  we  tell?  Is  it  our  business?  You  sup- 
pressed it  in  the  Journal.  Can't  you  suppress  it 
now  ?  " 

"  The  Ivers?  "  he  stammered. 

"  The  Ivers !  What's  it  to  the  Ivers  compared  to 
what  it  is  to  him?  It'll  never  come  out.  If  it  did — Oh, 
but  it  won't !  It's  life  and  death  to  him.  And  isn't  it 
right?  Isn't  it  justice?  He's  her  son.  This  thing's 
just  a   horrible   accident.      Oh,   if   vou'd    heard   him 

[94] 


Duty  and  Mr  Neeld 

speak  of  Blent ! "  She  paused  a  moment,  rubbing 
her  hand  across  her  eyes.  Then  she  threw  herself 
back  into  her  chair,  asking  again,  "  What  are  you  go- 
ing to  do?  " 

He  sat  silent,  thinking  hard.  It  was  not  his  busi- 
ness. Right  and  justice  seemed,  in  some  sense  at  least, 
on  Harry's  side.  But  the  law  is  the  law.  And  there 
were  his  friends  the  Ivers.  In  him  there  was  no  motive 
of  self-interest  such  as  had  swayed  Major  Duplay  and 
made  his  action  seem  rather  ugly  even  to  himself. 
Neeld  owed  loyalty  and  friendship  ;  that  was  all.  Was 
it  loyal,  was  it  friendly,  to  utter  no  word  while  friends 
were  deceived?  With  what  face  would  he  greet  Iver 
if  the  thing  did  come  out  afterward  ?  He  debated  with 
entire  sincerity  the  point  that  Major  Duplay  had  in- 
voked in  defence  of  himself  against  his  conscience.  On 
the  other  side  was  the  strong  sympathy  which  that 
story  in  the  Journal  had  created  in  him  since  first  he 
read  it,  and  realized  its  perverse  little  tragedy  ;  and 
there  was  the  thought  of  Lady  Tristram  dying  down  at 
Blent. 

The  long  silence  was  broken  by  neither  of  them. 
Neeld  was  weighing  his  question  ;  Mina  had  made  her 
appeal  and  waited  for  an  answer.  The  quiet  of  the 
book-lined  room  (There  were  the  yellowy-brown 
volumes  from  which  Mina  had  acquired  her  lore !)  was 
broken  by  a  new  voice.  They  both  started  to  hear  it, 
and  turned  alert  faces  to  the  window  whence  it  came. 
Harry  Tristram,  in  flannels  and  a  straw  hat,  stood 
looking  in. 

"  I've  got  an  hour  off."  he  explained,  "  so  I  walked 
up  to  thank  you  for  the  flowers.  My  mother  liked 
them,  and  liked  to  have  them  from  you."  He  saw 
Neeld,  and  greeted  him  courteously.  "  I  asked  her  if 
I  should  give  you  her  love,  and  she  said  yes — with 
her  eyes,  you  know,    She  speaks  mostly  that  way  now. 

[95] 


Tristram  of  Blent 

Well,  she  always  did  a  good  deal,  I  expect."  His 
smile  came  on  the  last  words. 

"She  sent  her  love  to  me?" 

"  Yes.  I  told  her  what  you  did  one  evening,  and  she 
liked  that  too." 

*'  I  hope  Lady  Tristram  is — er — going  on  well  ?  " 
asked  Neeld. 

"  She  doesn't  suffer,  thank  you." 

Mina  invited  him  in ;  there  was  an  appositeness  in 
his  coming  which  appealed  to  her,  and  she  watched 
Neeld  with  covert  eagerness. 

Harry  looked  round  the  room,  then  vaulted  over  the 
sill. 

"  My  uncle's  playing  golf  with  Mr  Tver,"  remarked 
Mina.    "Tea?" 

"  No;  too  sick-roomy.  I'm  for  nothing  but  strong 
drink  now — and  I've  had  some."  He  came  to  the  mid- 
dle of  the  room  and  stood  between  them,  flinging  his 
hat  on  the  table  where  Mr  Cholderton's  Journal  had 
so  lately  lain.  "  My  mother's  an  extraordinary 
woman,"  he  went  on,  evidently  so  full  of  his  thought 
that  he  must  speak  it  out ;    "  she's  dying  joyfully." 

After  an  instant  Mina  asked,  "  Why?"  Neeld  was 
surprised  at  the  baldness  of  the  question,  but  Harry 
took  it  as  natural. 

"  It's  like  going  off  guard — I  mean,  rather,  off  duty 
■ — to  her,  I  think."  He  made  the  correction  thought- 
fully and  with  no  haste.  "  Life  has  always  seemed 
rather  like  an  obligation  to  do  things  you  don't  want 
to — not  that  she  did  them  all — and  now  she's  tired, 
she's  glad  to  leave  it  to  me.  Only  she  wishes  I  was  a 
bit  better-looking,  though  she  won't  admit  it.  She 
couldn't  stand  a  downright  ugly  man  at  Blent,  you 
know.  I've  a  sort  of  notion  " — he  seemed  to  forget 
Neeld,  and  looked  at  Mina  for  sympathy — "  that  she 
thinks   she'll  be   able  to  come  and  have   a   look  at 

[96] 


Duty  and  Mr  Neeld 

Blent  and  me  in  it,  all  the  same."  His  smile  took  a 
whimsical  turn  as  he  spoke  of  his  mother's  dying 
fancies. 

Mina  glanced  at  Mr  Neeld;  was  the  picture  visible 
to  him  that  rose  before  her  eyes — of  the  poor  sprite 
coming  eagerly,  but  turning  sadly  away  when  she  saw  a 
stranger  enthroned  at  Blent,  and  knew  not  where  to 
look  for  her  homeless,  landless  son?  Mina  was  not 
certain  that  she  could  safely  credit  Neeld  with  such 
a  flight  of  imagination ;  still  he  was  listening,  and  his 
eyes  were  very  gentle  behind  his  spectacles. 

"  The  parson  came  to  see  her  yesterday.  He's  not 
what  you'd  call  an  unusual  man,  Madame  Zabriska — 
and  she  is  an  unusual  woman,  you  know.  It  was — 
yes,  it  was  amusing,  and  there's  an  end  of  it."  He 
paused,  and  added,  by  way  of  excuse,  "  Oh,  I  know 
her  so  well,  you  see.  She  wouldn't  be  left  alone  with 
him ;    she  wanted  another  sinner  there." 

Mina  marked  the  change  in  him — the  new  expan- 
siveness,  the  new  appeal  for  sympathy.  He  had  for- 
gotten his  suspicion  and  his  watchfulness ;  she  was 
inclined  to  say  that  he  had  forgotten  himself.  On  her 
death-bed  Addie  Tristram  had  exerted  her  charm  once 
more — and  over  her  own  son.  Once  more  a  man, 
whatever  his  own  position,  thought  mainly  of  her — 
and  that  man  was  her  son.  Did  Neeld  see  this  ?  To 
Neeld  it  came  as  the  strongest  reinforcement  to  the 
feelings  which  bade  him  hold  his  peace.  It  seemed  an 
appeal  to  him,  straight  from  the  death-bed  in  the  valley 
below.  Harry  found  the  old  gentleman's  gaze  fixed  in- 
tently on  him. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon  for  troubling  you  with  all  this, 
Mr  Neeld,"  he  said,  relapsing  rather  into  his  defensive 
attitude.    "  Madame  Zabriska  knows  my  ways." 

"  No,  I  don't  think  I  know  this  new  way  of  yours 
at  all,"  she  objected.    "  But  I  like  it,  Mr  Tristram.    I 

[97] 


Tristram  of  Blent 

feel  all  you  do.     I  have  seen  her."     She  turned  to 
Neeld.    "  Oh,  how  I  wish  you  had !  "  she  cried. 

Her  earnestness  stirred  a  little  curiosity  in  Harry. 
He  glanced  with  his  old  wariness  at  Neeld.  But  what 
could  he  see  save  a  kindly  precise  old  gentleman,  who 
was  unimportant  to  him  but  seemed  interested  in  what 
he  said.    He  turned  back  to  Mina,  asking: 

"  A  new  way  of  mine  ?  " 

"  Well,  not  quite.  You  were  rather  like  it  once. 
But  generally  you've  got  a  veil  before  your  face.  Or 
perhaps  you're  really  changed  ?  " 

He  thought  for  a  moment.  "  Things  change  a 
man."    And  he  added,  "  I'm  only  twenty-two." 

"  Yes,  I  know,"  she  smiled,  "  though  I  constantly 
forget  it  all  the  same." 

"  Well,  twenty-three,  come  the  twentieth  of  July," 
said  he.  His  eyes  were  on  hers,  his  characteristic 
smile  on  his  lips.    It  was  a  challenge  to  her. 

_ "  I  shan't  forget  the  date,"  she  answered,  answering 
his  look  too.  He  sighed  lightly ;  he  was  assured  that 
she  was  with  him. 

The  twentieth  of  July !  The  Editor  of  Mr  Cholder- 
ton's  Journal  sat  by  listening;  he  raised  no  voice  in 
protest. 

"  I  must  get  back,"  said  Harry.  "  Walk  with  me 
to  the  dip  of  the  hill." 

With  a  glance  of  apology  to  Neeld,  she  followed  him 
and  stepped  out  of  the  window ;  there  were  two  steps 
at  the  side  leading  up  to  it.  "  I'll  be  back  directly," 
she  cried  over  her  shoulder,  as  she  joined  Harry  Tris- 
tram. They  walked  to  the  gate  which  marked  the  end 
of  the  terrace  on  which  Merrion  stood. 

"  I'm  so  glad  you  came !  You  do  believe  in  me 
now?  "  she  asked. 

"  Yes,  and  I'm  not  afraid.  But  do  you  know — it 
seems  incredible  to  me — I'm  not  thinking  of  that  now. 

[98] 


Duty  and  Mr  Neeld 

I  shall  again  directly,  when  it's  over.  But  now — well, 
Blent  won't  seem  much  without  my  mother." 

"  She  couldn't  rest  if  you  weren't  there,"  cried  Mina, 
throwing  back  the  impression  she  had  received,  as  her 
disposition  made  her. 

"  I  haven't  changed  about  that,  but  it  will  wait. 
Three  days  they  say  now — three  days,  or  maybe  four, 
and  then — she  goes." 

Together  they  stood,  looking  down.  Mina's  heart 
was  very  full.  She  was  with  the  Tristrams  indeed 
now,  thick  and  thin ;  their  cause  seemed  hers,  their 
house  must  stand. 

Harry  turned  to  her  suddenly. 

"  Say  nothing  of  this  to  the  Major.  Let  him  alone ; 
that's  best.  We'll  see  about  all  that  afterward.  Good- 
by." 

"  And — and  the  Ivers  ?  "  She  could  not  restram  the 
question. 

A  slight  frown  came  on  his  brow ;  he  seemed  to  have 
no  relish  for  the  subject. 

"  Oh,  that'll  wait  too,"  he  said  impatiently.  He 
caught  her  by  the  arm  as  he  had  done  once  before.  "  If 
all  they  said  was  true,  if  what  you  think  was  true  (he 
smiled  at  her  as  he  spoke),  I'd  change  with  no  man  in 
England  ;  remember  that.  If  it  comes  to  a  fight  and 
I'm  beaten,  remember  that."  And  he  ran  down  the 
hill. 

Mina  returned  slowly  to  the  library  and  found  Neeld 
walking  restlessly  to  and  fro.  For  the  moment  they 
did  not  speak.  Mina  sat  down  and  followed  the  old 
gentleman's  figure  in  its  restless  pacing. 

"  You  heard  him  about  his  mother?"  she  asked  at 
last. 

He  nodded,  but  did  not  reply. 

"  You  make  all  the  difiference,"  she  blurted  out  after 
another  pause. 

[99] 


Tristram  of  Blent 

Again  he  nodded,  not  ceasing  his  walk.  For  a 
minute  or  two  longer  Mina  endured  the  suspense, 
though  it  seemed  more  than  she  could  bear.  Then  she 
sprang  up,  ran  to  him,  intercepted  him,  and  caught 
hold  of  both  his  hands,  arresting  his  progress  with  an 
eager,  imperious  grip. 

"  Well  ?  "  she  cried.  "  Well  ?  What  are  you  going 
to  do?" 

For  a  moment  still  he  waited.  Then  he  spoke  de- 
liberately. 

"  I  can't  consider  it  my  duty  to  do  anything, 
Madame  Zabriska." 

"  Ah !  "  cried  the  Imp  in  shrill  triumph,  and  she 
flung  her  arms  round  his  neck  and  kissed  him.  She 
did  not  mind  his  putting  it  on  the  score  of  duty. 


[lOO] 


IX 

The  Man  in  Possession 

IN  these  days  Janie  Tver  would  have  been  lonely 
but  for  the  Major's  attentions.  Her  father  had 
gone  to  London  on  business — showing,  to  Mr 
Neeld's  relief,  no  disposition  to  take  the  Journal  with 
him  to  read  on  the  wa}/ — Neeld  was  absurdly  nervous 
about  the  Journal  now.  Her  mother  was  engrossed  in 
a  notable  scheme  which  Miss  Swinkerton  had  started 
for  the  benefit  of  the  poor  of  Blentmouth.  Bible- 
readings,  a  savings-bank,  and  cottage-gardens  were  so 
inextricably  mingled  in  it  that  the  beneficiary,  if  she 
liked  one,  had  to  go  in  for  them  all.  "  Just  my  ob- 
ject," Miss  Swinkerton  would  remark  triumphantly 
as  she  set  the  flower-pots  down  on  the  Bibles,  only  to 
find  that  the  bank-books  had  got  stored  away  with  the 
seed.  Clearly  Mrs  Iver,  chief  aide-de-camp,  had  no 
leisure.  Harry  was  at  Blent ;  no  word  and  no  sign 
came  from  him.  Bob  Broadley  never  made  advances. 
The  field  was  clear  for  the  Major.  Janie,  grateful  for 
his  attentions,  yet  felt  vaguely  that  he  was  more  amus- 
ing as  one  of  two  attentive  cavaliers  than  when  he 
was  her  only  resource.  A  sense  of  flatness  came  over 
her  sometimes.  In  fact  the  centre  of  interest  had 
shifted  from  her ;  she  no  longer  held  the  stag? ;  it  was 
occupied  now,  for  the  few  days  she  had  still  to  live, 
by  Lady  Tristram.  Moreover,  Duplay  was  puzzling. 
Although  not  a  girl  who  erected  every  attention  or 
every  indication  of  liking  into  an  obligation  to  propose 
matrimony,  Janie  knew  that  after  a  certain  point  things 

[lOl] 


Tristram   ^  Blent 

of  this  kind  were  supposed  to  go  either  forward  or 
backward,  not  to  remain  in  statu  quo.  If  her  own 
bearing  toward  Bob  contradicted  this  general  rule — 
well,  that  was  an  exceptional  case.  In  Duplay's  in- 
stance she  could  see  nothing  .exceptional.  She  her- 
self was  not  eager  for  a  final  issue — indeed  that  would 
probably  be  brought  about  in  another  way — but, 
knowing  nothing  of  his  diplomatic  reasons  for  delay, 
she  thought  he  ought  to  be.  It  is  not  very  flattering 
when  a  gentleman  takes  too  long  over  considering 
such  a  matter;  a  touch  of  impetuosity  is  more  be- 
coming. She  would  have  preferred  that  he  should 
need  to  be  put  off,  and  failed  to  understand  why  (if  it 
may  be  so  expressed)  he  put  himself  off  from  day  to 
day. 

But  Duplay's  reasons  were,  in  fact,  overwhelming. 
Lady  Tristram  lived  still,  and  he  had  the  grace  to 
count  that  as  the  strongest  motive  for  holding  his 
hand.  Harry's  campaign  was  for  the  moment  at  a 
standstill ;  Duplay  had  no  doubt  he  would  resume  it 
as  soon  as  his  mother  was  buried ;  on  its  apparent 
progress  the  Major's  action  would  depend.  It  was  just 
possible  that  he  could  defeat  his  enemy  without  his 
secret  weapon ;  in  that  event  he  pictured  himself  writ- 
ing a  letter  to  Harry,  half  sorrowful,  half  magnani- 
mous, in  which  he  would  leave  that  young  man  to  settle 
matters  with  his  conscience,  and,  for  his  own  part, 
wash  his  hands  of  the  whole  affair.  But  his  conviction 
was  that  there  would  come  a  critical  moment  at  which 
he  could  go  to  Iver,  not  (as  he  must  now)  without  any 
compelling  reason,  but  in  the  guise  of  a  friend  who  acjs 
reluctantly  yet  under  an  imperious  call.  What  would 
happen  if  he  did  ?  Victory,  he  used  to  repeat  to  him- 
self. But  often  his  heart  sank.  Mina  was  with  him  no 
more ;  he  never  thought  of  Neeld  as  a  possible  ally ; 
Harry's  position  was  strong.    Among  the  reasons  for 

[102] 


The   Man   in   Possession 

inactivity  which  Dnplay  did  not  acknowledge  to  him- 
self was  the  simple  and  common  one  that  he  was  in  his 
heart  afraid  to  act.  He  meant  to  act,  but  he  shrank 
from  it  and  postponed  the  hour  as  long  as  he  could.  De- 
feat would  be  very  ignominious  ;  and  he  could  not  deny 
that  defeat  was  possible  merely  from  want  of  means  to 
carry  on  the  war.  When  the  Major  recognized  this 
fact  he  was  filled  with  a  sombre  indignation  at  the  in- 
equalities of  wealth,  and  at  the  ways  of  a  world  where- 
in not  even  Truth  shall  triumph  unless  she  commands 
a  big  credit  at  the  bank. 

And  Mina  annoyed  him  intensely,  assuming  an  ag- 
grieved air,  and  hinting  severe  moral  condemnation 
in  every  glance  of  her  eye.  She  behaved  for  all  the 
world  as  though  the  Major  had  begun  the  whole  thing, 
and  entirely  ignored  her  own  responsibility.  She  con- 
veyed the  view  that  he  was  the  unscrupulous  assailant, 
she  the  devoted  defender,  of  the  Tristrams.  Such 
a  volte-face  as  this  was  not  only  palpably  unjust,  it 
was  altogether  too  nimble  a  bit  of  gymnastics  for 
Duplay  to  appreciate.  The  general  unreasonableness 
of  woman  was  his  only  refuge ;  but  the  dogma 
could  not  bring  understanding,  much  less  consolation, 
with  it. 

"  What  did  you  tell  me  for,  then?  "  he  cried  at  last. 
"  You  were  hot  on  it  then.  Now  you  say  you  won't 
help  me,  you'll  have  nothing  more  to  do  with  it !  " 

"  I  only  told  it  you  as — as  a  remarkable  circum- 
stance," the  Imp  alleged,  with  a  wanton  disregard  for 
truth. 

"  Nonsense,  Mina.  You  were  delighted  to  have  a 
weapon  against  young  Tristram  then." 

"  I  can't  help  it  if  you  insist  on  misunderstanding 
me,  uncle  ;  and,  anyhow,  I  suppose  I  can  change  my 
mind  if  I  like,  can't  I?  " 

"  No,"  he  declared,  "  it's  not  fair  to  me.     I  can't 

[103] 


Tristram   of  Blent 

make  you  out  at  all.  You're  not  in  love  with  Harry 
Tristram,  are  you?  " 

"With  that  boy?"  asked  Mina,  attempting  to  be 
superb. 

"  That's  women's  old  nonsense,"  observed  Duplay, 
twirling  his  mustache  knowingly.  "  They  often  fall  in 
love  with  young  men  and  always  try  to  pass  it  off  by 
calling  them  boys." 

"  Of  course  I  haven't  your  experience,  uncle,"  she 
rejoined,  passing  into  the  sarcastic  vein. 

"  And  if  you  are,"  he  went  on,  reverting  to  the 
special  case,  "  I  don't  see  why  you  make  his  path 
smooth  to  Janie  Iver." 

"  Some  people  are  capable  of  self-sacrifice  in  their 
love." 

"  Yes,  but  I  shouldn't  think  you'd  be  one  of  them," 
said  the  Major  rather  rudely.  He  looked  at  her  curi- 
ously. Her  interest  in  Harry  was  unmistakable,  her 
championship  of  him  had  become  thorough-going, 
fierce,  and  (to  the  Major's  mind)  utterly  unscrupulous. 
Was  he  faced  with  a  situation  so  startlingly  changed? 
Did  his  niece  object  to  turning  Harry  off  his  throne 
because  she  harbored  a  hope  of  sharing  it  with  him? 
If  that  were  so,  and  if  the  hope  had  any  chance  of  be- 
coming a  reality,  Duplay  would  have  to  reconsider  his 
game.  But  what  chance  of  success  could  there  be? 
She  would  (he  put  it  bluntly  in  his  thoughts)  only  be 
making  a  fool  of  herself. 

The"  Imp  screwed  up  her  little  lean  face  into  a 
grimace  which  served  effectually  to  cover  any  sign 
of  her  real  feelings.  She  neither  admitted  nor  denied 
the  charge  levied  against  her.  She  was  bewildering 
her  uncle,  and  she  found,  as  usual,  a  genuine  pleasure 
in  the  pursuit.  If  she  were  also  bewildering  herself 
a  little  with  her  constant  thoughts  of  Harry  Tristram 
and  her  ardent  championship  of  his  cause,  well,  in  the 

[104] 


The  Man   in   Possession 

country  there  is  such  a  thing  as  being  too  peaceful, 
and  up  to  the  present  time  the  confusion  of  feeling  had 
been  rather  pleasant  than  painful. 

"  I  don't  really  know  what  I  feel,"  she  remarked  the 
next  moment.  "  But  you  can  read  women,  uncle, 
you've  often  said  so,  and  I  dare  say  you  really  know 
more  about  what  I  feel  than  I  do  myself."  A  gross- 
ness  of  innocence  was  her  new  assumption.  "  Now 
judging  from  what  I  do  and  look — that's  the  way  to 
judge,  isn't  it,  not  from  what  I  say? — what  do  you 
think  my  real  inmost  feelings  are  about  Mr  Tris- 
tram ?  " 

If  the  Major  had  been  asked  what  his  real  inmost 
feelings  about  his  niece  were  at  the  moment,  he  would 
have  been  at  some  difficulty  to  express  them  decor- 
ously. She  was  back  at  fifteen — a  particularly  exas- 
perating child  of  fifteen.  Her  great  eyes,  with  their 
mock  gravity,  were  fixed  on  his  irritated  face.  lie 
would  have  agreed  absolutely  with  Air  Cholderton's 
estimate  of  the  evil  in  her,  and  of  its  proper  remedy. 

Wherein  Duplay  was  derided  his  niece  made  very 
plain  to  him  ;  wherein  his  words  had  any  effect  was 
studiously  concealed.  Yet  she  repeated  the  words 
when  he  had,  with  a  marked  failure  of  temper,  gone 
his  way  and  slammed  the  door  behind  him.  "  In  love 
with  Harry  Tristram !  "  Mina  found  the  idea  at  once 
explanatory  and  picturesque.  Why  otherwise  was  she 
his  champion  ?  She  paused  (as  they  say)  for  a  reply. 
How  better  could  she  draw  to  herself  a  part  and  a  share 
in  the  undoubtedly  romantic  situation  in  which  she 
grouped  the  facts  of  the  case  ?  By  being  in  love  with 
Harry  she  became  part  of  the  drama ;  and  she  com- 
plicated the  drama  most  delightfully.  Janie  knew 
nothing  —  she  knew  everything.  Janie  hesitated  — 
what  if  she  did  not  hesitate  ?  A  big  role  opened  before 
her  eyes.     What  if  it  were  very  unlikely  that  Harry 

[105] 


Tristram  of  Blent 

would  reciprocate  her  proposed  feelings?  The  Imp 
hesitated  between  a  natural  vexation  and  an  artistic 
pleasure.  Such  a  failure  on  his  part  would  wound  the 
woman,  but  it  would  add  pathos  to  the  play.  She  be- 
came almost  sure  that  she  could  love  Harry ;  she  re- 
mained uncertain  whether  he  should  return  the  com- 
pliment. And,  after  all,  to  be  Lady  Tristram  of  Blent ! 
That  was  attractive.  Or  (in  case  Harry  suffered  defeat) 
to  be  Lady  Tristram  of  Blent  in  the  sight  of  heaven  (a 
polite  and  time-honored  way  of  describing  an  arrange- 
ment not  recognized  on  earth,  and  quite  adaptable  to 
the  present  circumstances) ;  that  had  a  hardly  less 
alluring,  and  at  least  a  rarer,  flavor.  The  Imp  looked 
down  on  Blent  with  an  access  of  interest.  Monsieur 
Zabriska  had  left  her  with  unexhausted  reserves  of 
feeling.  Moreover  she  could  not  be  expected  to  help 
her  uncle  if  she  were  seriously  attached  to  Harry. 
The  moral  of  all  this  for  the  Major  was  that  it  is  un- 
wise to  suggest  courses  of  action  unless  you  are  will- 
ing to  see  them  carried  out,  or  channels  of  emotion 
unless  you  are  prepared  to  find  them  filled. 

"  Some  people  are  capable  of  self-sacrifice  in  their 
love."  That  would  mean  being  his  champion  still,  and 
letting  him  marry  Janie  Iver.  She  did  not  object  much 
to  her  own  part,  but  she  cavilled  suddenly  at  Janie's — 
or  at  Harry's  relation  to  Janie.  Would  it  be  better  to 
share  adversity  with  him?  Perhaps.  But,  after  all, 
she  did  not  fancy  him  in  adversity.  The  third  course 
recommended  itself  —  victory  for  him,  but  not  Janie. 
Who  then  ? 

At  this  point  Mina  became  sensible  of  no  more  than 
the  vaguest  visions,  not  at  all  convincing  even  to  her- 
self. By  a  sad  deficiency  of  imagination,  she  could 
give  no  definiteness  to  a  picture  of  Harry  Tristram 
making  love.  He  had  never,  to  her  mind,  looked  Hke 
it  with  Janie  Iver,  even  while  he  had  purported  to  be 

[1 06] 


The  Man   in  Possession 

doing  it.  He  never  looked  like  it  at  all,  not  even  as 
though  he  could  do  it.  Stay,  though !  That  new  way 
of  his,  which  she  had  marked  when  he  came  up  the  hill 
to  thank  her  for  the  flowers,  was  an  exception.  But 
the  new  way  had  been  for  his  mother's  sake.  Now  a 
man  cannot  be  in  love  with  his  mother.  The  question 
grew  more  puzzling,  more  annoying,  more  engross- 
ing still. 

While  full  of  these  problems,  refusing  indeed  to  be 
anything  else,  Mina  was  surprised  by  a  visit  from  Miss 
Swinkerton,  who  sought  a  subscription  for  the  scheme 
of  which  an  inadequate  account  has  already  been  given. 
Miss  Swinkerton  (for  some  reason  she  was  generally 
known  as  Miss  S.,  a  vulgar  style  of  description  pos- 
sessing sometimes  an  inexplicable  appropriateness) 
was  fifty-five,  tall  and  bony,  the  daughter  of  a  Rear- 
Admiral,  the  sister  of  an  Archdeacon.  She  lived  for 
good  works  and  by  gossip.  Mina's  sovereign  (foreign- 
ers will  not  grasp  the  cheap  additional  handsome- 
ness of  a  guinea)  duly  disbursed,  conversation  became 
general — that  is  to  say,  they  talked  about  their  neigh- 
bors. 

"  A  hard  young  man,"  said  Miss  S.  (Why  be  more 
genteel  than  her  friends?)  "  And  if  Janie  Iver  thinks 
he's  in  love  with  her " 

"  What  do  you  mean  by  being  in  love.  Miss  Swin- 
kerton?" 

Miss  Swinkerton  had  always  been  rather  surprised, 
not  to  say  hurt,  when  the  Catechism  asked  for  an  ex- 
planation of  what  she  meant  by  the  Lord's  Prayer. 
This  question  of  Mina's  was  still  more  uncalled  for. 

"  You  know  enough  English,  my  dear " 

"  It's  not  a  question  of  English,"  interrupted  Mina, 
"  but  of  human  nature,  Miss  Swinkerton." 

"  When  T  was  a  girl  there  were  no  such  questions." 

"  What  about  Lady  Tristram,  then?  " 

[107] 


Tristram   ^  Blent 

There  was  flattery  in  this,  ten  or  fifteen  years  of 
flattery.    Miss  S.  was  unmoved. 

"  I  am  happy  to  say  that  Lady  Tristram  never  called 
at  Seaview."  Miss  S.'s  house  was  called  Seaview — 
Sea-Backview  would  have  been  a  more  precise  de- 
scription. 

"  I  call  him  in  love  with  Janie  Iver.  He  must  want 
to  marry  her  or " 

"  They  do  say  that  money  isn't  very  plentiful  at 
Blent.    And  there'll  be  the  Death  Duties,  you  know." 

"  What  are  they  ?  "  asked  Mina. 

"  Like  stamps,"  explained  Miss  S.,  vaguely.  "  For 
my  part,  I  think  it's  lucky  he  is  what  he  is.  There's 
been  enough  of  falling  in  love  in  the  Tristram  family. 
If  you  ask  me  who  is  in  love  with  her,  of  course  it's 
poor  young  Broadley.  Well,  you  know  that,  as  you're 
always  driving  up  to  Mingham  with  her." 

"  We've  only  been  three  or  four  times,  Miss  Sw'm- 
kerton." 

"  Six,  I  was  told,"  observed  Miss  S.,  with  an  air  of 
preferring  accuracy.  "  Oh,  I  should  be  very  pleased 
to  see  him  married  to  Janie — Mr  Tristram,  I  mean,  of 
course — but  she  mustn't  expect  too  much,  my  dear. 
Where's  your  uncle?  " 

"  At  Fairholme,  I  expect,"  answered  the  Imp  de- 
murely. As  a  matter  of  fact  the  Major  had  gone  to 
Exeter  on  a  business  errand. 

"  Fairholme?  "  Miss  S.'s  air  was  significant,  Mina's 
falsehood  rewarded.  Mina  threw  out  a  smile;  her 
visitor's  pursed  lips  responded  to  it. 

"  He  goes  there  a  lot,"  pursued  Mina,  "  to  play  golf 
with  Mr  Iver." 

"  So  I've  heard."  Her  tone  put  the  report  in  its 
proper  place.    To  play  golf  indeed  ! 

"  I  think  Janie's  rather  fond  of  Mr  Tristram,  any- 
how."   This  was  simply  a  feeler  on  Mina's  part. 

[io8] 


The   Man   in   Possession 

"  Well,  my  dear,  the  position !  Blent's  been  under 
a  cloud — though  people  don't  seem  to  mind  that  much 
nowada3'S,  to  be  sure.  But  the  new  Lady  Tristram ! 
They've  always  been  the  heads  of  the  neighborhood. 
She'll  have  him,  no  doubt,  but  as  for  being  in  love  with 
him — well,  could  you,  Madame  Zabriska?" 

"  Yes,"  said  the  Imp,  without  the  least  hesitation. 
"  I  think  he's  most  attractive — mysterious,  you  know. 
I'm  quite  taken  with  him." 

"  He  always  looks  at  me  as  if  I  wanted  to  pick  his 
pocket." 

"  Well,  you  generally  do — for  your  charities."  The 
laugh  was  confined  to  Mina  herself.  "  But  I  know  the 
manner  you  mean." 

"Poor  young  man!  I'm  told  he's  very  sensitive 
about  his  mother.  That's  it  perhaps."  The  guess  was 
at  all  events  as  near  as  gossip  generally  gets  to  truth. 
"  It  would  make  him  a  very  uncomfortable  sort  of  hus- 
band though,  even  if  one  didn't  mind  having  that  kind 
of  story  in  the  family." 

With  a  flash  of  surprise — really  she  had  not  been 
thinking  about  herself,  in  spite  of  her  little  attempts 
to  mystify  Miss  S. — Mina  caught  that  lady  indulging 
in  a  very  intent  scrutiny  of  her,  which  gave  an  obvious 
point  to  her  last  words  and  paved  the  way  (as  it  ap- 
peared in  a  moment)  for  a  direct  approach  to  the  prin- 
cipal object  of  Miss  S.'s  visit.  That  this  object  did 
not  come  to  the  front  till  Miss  S.  was  on  her  feet  to  go 
was  quite  characteristic. 

"  I'm  really  glad,  my  dear,"  she  observed,  hanging 
her  silk  bag  on  her  arm,  "  to  have  had  this  talk  with 
you.  They  do  say  such  things,  and  now  I  shall  be 
able  to  contradict  them  on  the  best  authority." 

"What  do  they  say?" 

"  Well,  I  never  repeat  things ;  still  I  think  perhaps 
you've  a  right  to  know.    They  do  say  that  you're  more 

[109] 


Tristram   (9/^  Blent 

interested  in  Harry  Tristram  than  a  mere  neighbor 
would  be,  and — well,  really,  I  don't  quite  know  how  to 
put  it." 

"  Oh,  I  do !  "  cried  Mina,  delightedly  hitting  the 
mark.  "  That  uncle  and  I  are  working  together,  I 
suppose?  " 

"  I  don't  hsten  to  such  gossip,  but  it  comes  to  my 
ears,"  Miss  S.  admitted. 

"  What  diplomatists  we  are !  "  said  the  Imp.  "  I 
didn't  know  we  were  so  clever.  But  why  do  I  take 
Janie  to  Mingham  ?  " 

"  They'd  say  that  Bob  Broadley's  no  real  danger, 
and  if  it  should  disgust  Harry  Tristram " 

"  I  am  clever !  Dear  Miss  Swinkerton,  I  never 
thought  of  anything  half  so  good  myself.  I'll  tell 
uncle  about  it  directly." 

Miss  S.  looked  as  her  suspiciously.  The  innocence 
seemed  very  much  over-done. 

"  I  knew  you'd  laugh  at  it,"  she  observed. 

"  I  should  do  that  even  if  it  was  true,"  said  Mina, 
thoroughly  enjoying  herself. 

Miss  S.  took  her  leave,  quite  undecided  whether  to 
announce  on  the  best  authority  that  the  idea  was  true, 
or  that  it  was  quite  unfounded.  One  thing  only  was 
certain ;  whatever  she  decided  to  say,  she  would  say 
on  the  best  authority.  If  it  turned  out  incorrect  in  the 
end,  Miss  S.  would  take  credit  for  an  impenetrable 
discretion  and  an  unswerving  loyalty  to  the  friends 
who  had  given  her  their  confidence. 

Mina  was  left  very  unquiet.  Miss  S.  chimed  in  with 
the  Major;  the  neighborhood  too  seemed  in  the  same 
tune.  She  could  laugh  at  the  ingenuities  attributed 
to  her,  yet  the  notions  which  had  given  them  birth 
found,  as  she  perceived  more  and  more  clearly,  a  war- 
rant in  her  feelings,  if  not  in  her  conduct.  Look  at  it 
how  she  would,  she  was  wrapped  up  in  Harry  Tris- 

[iio] 


The  Man   in   Possession 

tram ;  she  spent  her  days  watching  his  fortunes,  any 
wakeful  hour  of  the  night  found  her  occupied  in  think- 
ing of  him.  Was  she  a  traitor  to  her  friend  Janie  Iver? 
Was  that  treachery  bringing  her  back,  by  a  round- 
about way,  to  a  new  aUiance  with  her  uncle?  Did  it 
involve  treason  to  Harry  himself?  For  certainly  it 
was  hard  to  go  on  helping  him  toward  a  marriage  with 
Janie  Iver. 

"  But  I  will  all  the  same  if  he  wants  it,"  she  ex- 
claimed, as  she  paced  about  on  the  terrace,  glanc- 
ing now  and  then  down  at  Blent.  And  again  she 
stood  aghast  at  the  thorough-going  devotion  which 
such  an  attitude  as  that  implied.  "  If  only  I  could 
keep  out  of  things ! "  she  murmured.  "  But  I  never 
can." 

.  Major  Duplay  drove  up  the  hill  in  a  Blentmouth 
station  fly ;  he  had  met  the  doctor  on  the  road,  and 
the  news  was  that  in  all  probability  Lady  Tristram 
would  not  live  out  the  night.  The  tidings  gained 
added  solemnity  from  Duplay 's  delivery  •  of  them, 
even  though  a  larger  share  of  his  impressiveness  was 
directed  to  the  influence  the  event  might  have  on  his 
fortunes  than  to  the  event  itself. 

"  Then  we  shall  see.  He'll  assume  the  title,  I  sup- 
pose. That's  no  afTair  of  mine.  And  then  he'll  go  to 
Fairholme.  That  is."  He  turned  suddenly,  almost 
threateningly,  upon  her.  "  I  hope  you've  come  to 
your  senses,  Mina,"  said  he.  "  You'll  have  to  speak, 
you  know.  If  I  can't  make  you,  Iver  will."  He  paused 
and  laughed.  "  But  you'll  speak  fast  enough  when 
you  find  yourself  in  the  lawyer's  office." 

Mina  refused  to  be  frightened  by  the  threatened 
terrors  of  the  law. 

"  Who's  going  to  take  me  to  a  lawyer's  office?  "  she 
demanded. 

"  Why,    Iver  will,   of  course."     He   showed   con- 

[III] 


Tristram  ^Blent 

temptuous  surprise.     "  Oh,  you've  gone  too  far  to 
think  you  can  get  out  of  it  now." 

She  studied  him  attentively  for  a  moment  or  two. 
The  result  was  reassuring;  his  blustering  manner  hid, 
she  believed,  a  sinking  heart. 

"  You  can't  frighten  me,  uncle.  I've  made  up  mv 
mind  what  to  do,  and  I  shall  do  it." 

She  was  not  afraid  of  him  now.  She  was  wondering 
how  she  had  come  to  be  bullied  into  telling  her  secret 
at  all,  looking  back  with  surprise  to  that  scene  in  the 
library  when,  with  sullen  obedience  and  childish  fear, 
she  had  obeyed  his  command  to  speak.  Why  was  it 
all  dififerent  now?  Why  was  his  attempt  to  take  the 
same  line  with  her  not  only  a  failure,  but  a  ridiculous 
effort  ?  She  knew  the  angry  answer  he  would  give. 
Could  she  give  any  other  answer  herself?  A  new  in- 
fluence had  come  into  her  life.  She  had  not  ceased  to 
be  afraid,  but  she  was  afraid  of  somebody  else.  A 
domination  was  over  her  still,  but  it  was  no  longer  his. 
Like  some  turbulent  little  city  of  old  Greece,  she  had 
made  her  revolution :  the  end  had  been  to  saddle  her 
with  a  new  tyrant.  There  seemed  no  more  use  in 
denying  it  ;  the  Major  said  it,  Miss  S.  said  it,  the 
neighborhood  was  all  agreed.  What  she  herself  was 
most  conscious  of,  and  most  oppressed  by,  was  a  sense 
of  audacity.  How  dared  she  devote  herself  to  Harry 
Tristram  ?  He  had  asked  nothing  of  her.  No,  but  he 
had  imposed  something  on  her.  She  had  volunteered 
for  his  service.  It  was  indeed  "  women's  nonsense  " 
when  she  spoke  of  him  as  "  That  Boy." 

Duplay  turned  away  from  her,  disheartened  and  dis- 
gusted. Things  looked  well  for  the  enemy.  He  was 
alone  with  his  unsupported  story  of  a  conversation 
which  Mina  would  not  repeat,  with  his  empty  purse 
which  could  supply  no  means  of  proving  what  he 
said.     He  ran  the  risk  of  losing  what  chance  he  had 

[112] 


The   Man   in   Possession 

of  Janie  Iver's  favor,  and  he  was  in  sore  peril  of  com- 
ing off  second-best  again  in  his  wresthng-bout  with 
Harry  Tristram.  The  Man  in  Possession  was  strong. 
The  perils  that  had  seemed  so  threatening  were  pass- 
ing away.  Mina  was  devoted  ;  Neeld  would  be  silent. 
Who  would  there  be  who  could  effectively  contest  his 
claim,  or  oust  him  from  his  place?  Thus  secure,  he 
would  hardly  need  the  check  always  by  him.  Yet  he 
was  a  cautious  wary  young  man.  There  is  little  doubt 
that  he  would  still  like  to  have  the  check  by  him,  and 
that  he  would  take  the  only  means  of  getting  it. 

Now  that  the  moment  had  come  for  which  all  his 
life  had  been  a  preparation,  Harry  Tristram  had  little 
reason  to  be  afraid. 


[113] 


X 

Behold  the  Heir! 

ADDIE  TRISTRAM  died  with  all  her  old  un- 
commonness.  Death  was  to  her  an  end  more 
fully  than  it  is  to  most;  had  she  been  herself 
responsible  for  it,  she  could  hardly  have  thought  less 
of  any  possible  consequences.  And  it  was  to  her  such 
a  beginning  as  it  can  seldom  seem.  She  had  been  liv- 
ing in  anticipation  of  dying,  but  in  a  sense  utterly  re- 
mote from  that  contemplation  of  their  latter  end  which 
is  enjoined  on  the  pious.  So  that,  together  with  an 
acquiescence  so  complete  as  almost  to  justify  her  son 
in  calling  it  joyful,  there  was  an  expectation,  nearly 
an  excitement — save  that  the  tired  body  failed  to  sec- 
ond the  mind.  She  might  have  shown  remorse,  both 
for  her  own  acts  and  for  the  position  in  which  she  was 
leaving  Harry ;  she  fell  in  with  the  view  he  had  always 
maintained  with  her,  that  all  these  things  had  come 
about  somehow,  had  produced  a  certain  state  of  affairs, 
and  must  be  made  to  seem  as  if  they  had  done  nothing 
of  the  sort.  During  the  last  day  or  two  she  was  de- 
lirious at  intervals ;  as  a  precaution  Harry  was  with 
her  then,  instead  of  the  nurse.  The  measure  was 
superfluous ;  there  was  nothing  on  Lady  Tristram's 
mind,  and  when  she  spoke  unconsciously,  she  spoke 
of  trifles.  The  few  final  hours  found  her  conscious  and 
intelligent,  although  very  weak.  Just  at  the  end  a 
curious  idea  got  hold  of  her.  She  was  a  little  dis- 
tressed that  the  Gainsboroughs  were  not  there ;  she 
whispered   her  feeling  to   Harry   apologetically,   well 

[114] 


Behold  the   Heir! 

remembering  his  objection  to  that  branch  of  the 
family,  and  his  disinclination  to  have  them  or  any  oi 
them  at  Blent.  "  Cecily  ought  to  be  here,"  she  mur- 
mured. Harry  started  a  little  ;  he  was  not  accustomed 
in  his  own  mind  to  concede  Cecily  any  rights.  His 
mother's  fear  of  offending  him  by  the  suggestion  was 
very     obvious.      "  She'd    come    after    you,    you    see, 

if "  she  said  once  or  twice.     There  did  not  pass 

between  them  a  word  of  acknowledgment  that  Cecily 
ought  to  come  before  him.  Yet  he  was  left  wondering 
whether  that  idea,  so  scorned  before,  had  not  won  its 
way  to  her  with  some  sudden  strength — as  though  an 
instinct  for  the  true  heir  made  itself  felt  in  spite  of  all 
her  resolution  and  all  her  prejudices,  and  forced  her  to 
do  something  toward  recognizing  the  claims  which 
they  were  both  determined  to  thwart. 

The  barest  hint  of  this  kind  would  have  raised 
Harry's  suspicion  and  anger  a  few  weeks  before ;  the 
new  mood  which  Mina  Zabriska  had  marked  in  him 
made  him  take  it  quietly  now,  and  even  affectionately. 
For  this  Addie  Tristram  was  grateful ;  she  had  always 
the  rare  grace  of  seeming  surprised  at  her  own  power 
over  men.  It  was  no  less  in  keeping  with  her  char- 
acter and  her  life  that  the  feeling  she  suffered  under, 
and  manifested,  was  very  easily  appeased.  Harry 
promised  to  ask  the  Gainsboroughs  to  her  funeral. 
Addie  Tristram's  conscientious  scruples  were  entirely 
laid  to  rest ;  with  a  sigh  of  peace  she  settled  herself  to 
die.  It  was  the  feudal  feeling,  Harry  decided,  which 
insisted  that  the  family  must  not  be  ignored  ;  it  did  not 
deny  their  humble  position,  or  the  gulf  that  separated 
them  from  the  succession.  Yet  he  was  vaguely 
vexed,  even  while  he  agreed  to  what  she  wanted. 

So  she  passed  away  in  the  full  tide  of  the  darkness  of 
night.  The  doctor  had  left  her  some  hours  before,  the 
nurse  had  been  sent  to  bed,  for  there  was  nothing  that 

[115] 


Tristram  of  Blent 

could  be  done.  Harry  was  alone  with  her ;  he  kissed 
her  when  she  was  dead,  and  stood  many  minutes  by 
her,  looking  from  her  to  the  picture  of  her  that  hung 
on  the  wall.  A  strange  loneliness  was  on  him,  a  loneli- 
ness which  there  seemed  nobody  to  solace.  He  had 
said  that  Blent  would  not  be  much  without  his  mother. 
That  was  not  quite  right ;  it  was  much,  but  different. 
wShe  had  carried  away  with  her  the  atmosphere  of  the 
place,  the  essence  of  the  life  that  he  had  lived  there 
with  her.  Who  would  make  that  the  same  to  him 
again?  Suddenly  he  recollected  that  in  four  days  he 
was  to  ask  Janie  Iver  for  her  answer.  Say  a  week 
now,  for  the  funeral  would  enforce  or  excuse  so  much 
postponement.  Janie  Iver  would  not  give  him  back 
the  life  or  the  atmosphere.  A  description  of  how  he 
felt,  had  it  been  related  to  him  a  year  ago,  would  have 
appeared  an  absurdity.  Yet  these  crowding  unex- 
pected thoughts  made  not  a  hair's  breadth  of  differ- 
ence in  what  he  purposed.  It  was  only  that  he  be- 
came aware  of  an  irreparable  change  of  scene ;  there 
was  to  be  no  change  in  his  action.  He  was  Tristram 
of  Blent  now — that  he  must  and  would  remain.  But 
it  was  not  the  same  Blent,  and  did  not  seem  as  though 
it  could  be  again.  So  much  of  the  poetry  had  gone 
out  of  it  with  Addie  Tristram. 

After  he  had  left  her  room,  he  walked  through  the 
house,  carrying  a  shaded  candle  in  his  hand  along  the 
dark  corridors  of  shining  oak.  He  bent  his  steps  to- 
ward the  long  gallery  which  filled  all  the  upper  floor 
of  the  left  wing.  Here  were  the  Valhalla  and  the 
treasure-house  of  the  Tristrams,  the  pictures  of  an- 
cestors, the  cases  of  precious  things  which  the  ances- 
tors had  amassed.  At  the  end  of  this  gallery  Addie 
Tristram  had  used  to  sit  when  she  was  well,  in  a  large 
high-backed  arm-chair  by  the  big  window  that  com- 
manded the  gardens  and  the  river.    He  flung  the  win- 

[ii6] 


Behold  the   Heir! 

dow  open  and  stood  looking  out.  The  wind  swished 
in  the  trees  and  the  Blent  washed  along  leisurely.  A 
beautiful  stillness  was  about  him.  It  was  as  though 
she  were  by  his  side,  her  fair  head  resting  against  the 
old  brocade  cover  of  the  arm-chair,  her  eyes  wander- 
ing in  delighted  employment  round  the  room  she  had 
loved  so  well.  Who  should  sit  there  next?  As  he 
looked  now  at  the  room,  now  out  into  the  night,  his 
eyes  filled  suddenly  with  tears ;  the  love  of  the  place 
came  back  to  him,  his  pride  in  it  lived  again,  he  would 
keep  it  not  only  because  it  was  his  but  because  it  had 
been  hers  before  him.  His  blood  spoke  strong  in  him. 
Suddenly  he  smiled.  It  was  at  the  thought  that  all 
this  belonged  in  law  to  ]\Iiss  Cecily  Gainsborough — 
the  house,  the  gallery,  the  pictures,  the  treasures,  the 
very  chair  where  Addie  Tristram  had  used  to  sit. 
Every  stick  and  stone  about  the  place  was  Cecily 
Gainsborough's,  aye,  and  the  bed  of  the  Blent  from 
shore  to  shore.  He  had  nothing  at  all— according  to 
law. 

Well,  the  law  must  have  some  honor,  some  recogni- 
tion, at  all  events.  The  Gainsboroughs  should,  as  he 
had  promised,  be  asked  to  the  funeral.  They  should 
be  invited  with  all  honor  and  most  formally,  in  the 
name  of  Tristram  of  Blent — which,  by  the  by  was,  ac- 
cording to  law,  also  Miss  Cecily  Gainsborough's. 
Harry  had  no  name  according  to  law ;  no  more  than 
he  had  houses  or  pictures  or  treasures,  any  stick  or 
stone,  or  the  smallest  heritage  in  the  bed  of  the  Blent. 
He  had  been  son  to  the  mistress  of  it  all ;  she  was  gone 
and  he  was  nobody — according  to  law.  It  was,  after 
all,  a  reasonable  concession  that  his  mother  had 
urged  on  him  ;  the  Gainsboroughs  ought  to  be  asked 
to  the  funeral.  The  last  of  his  vexation  on  this  score 
died  away  into  a  sense  of  grim  amusement  at  Addie 
Tristram's  wish  and  his  own  appreciation  of  it.     He 

[117] 


Tristram   ^Blent 

had  no  sense  of  danger ;  Tristram  liad  succeeded  to 
Tristram  ;  all  was  well. 

Little  inclined  to  sleep,  he  went  down  into  the  gar- 
den presently,  lit  his  cigar,  and  strolled  on  to  the 
bridge.  The  night  had  grown  clearer  and  some  stars 
showed  in  the  sky ;  it  was  nearly  one  o'clock.  He  had 
stood  where  he  was  only  a  few  moments  when  to  his 
surprise  he  heard  the  sound  of  a  horse's  hoofs  on  the 
road  from  Blentmouth.  Thinking  the  doctor,  who 
often  did  his  rounds  in  the  saddle,  might  have  re- 
turned, he  crossed  the  bridge,  opened  the  gate,  and 
stood  on  the  high  road.  The  rider  came  up  in  a  few 
minutes  and  drew  rein  at  the  sight  of  his  figure,  but, 
as  Harry  did  not  move,  made  as  though  he  would 
ride  on  again  with  no  more  than  the  customary  coun- 
try salute  of  "  Good-night." 

"Who  is  it?"  asked  Harry,  peering  through  the 
darkness. 

"  Me — Bob  Broadley,"  was  the  answer. 

"  You're  late." 

"  I've  been  at  the  Club  at  Blentmouth.  The  Cricket 
Club's  Annual  Dinner,  you  know." 

"  Ah,  I  forgot." 

Bob,  come  to  a  standstill,  was  taking  the  oppor- 
tunity of  lighting  his  pipe.  This  done,  he  looked  up  at 
the  house  and  back  to  Harry  rather  timidly. 

"  Lady  Tristram ?  "  he  began. 

"  My  mother  has  been  dead  something  above  an 
hour,"  said  Harry. 

After  a  moment  Bob  dismounted  and  threw  his 
reins  over  the  gatepost. 

"  I'm  sorry,  Tristram,"  he  said,  holding  out  his 
hand.  "  Lady  Tristram  was  always  very  kind  to  me. 
Indeed  she  was  that  to  everybody."  He  paused  a 
moment  and  then  went  on  slowly.  "  It  must  seem 
strange  to  you.     Why,  I  remember  when  my  father 

[ii8] 


Behold  the  Heir! 

died  I  felt — besides  the  sorrow,  you  know — sort  of  lost 
at  coming  into   my  bit  of  land   at   Mingham.      But 

you "    Harry  could  see  his  head  turn  as  he  looked 

over  the  demesne  of  Blent  and  struggled  to  give  some 
expression  to  the  thoughts  which  his  companion's 
position  suggested.  The  circumstances  of  this  meet- 
ing made  for  sincerity  and  openness ;  they  were 
always  Bob's  characteristics.  Harry  too  was  in  such 
a  mood  that  he  liked  Bob  to  stay  and  talk  a  little. 

They  fell  into  talk  with  more  ease  and  naturalness 
than  they  had  recently  achieved  together,  getting 
back  to  the  friendliness  of  boyhood,  although  Bob  still 
spoke  as  to  one  greater  than  himself  and  infused  a 
little  deference  into  his  manner.  But  they  came  to 
nothing  intimate  till  Bob  had  declared  that  he  must 
be  on  his  way  and  was  about  to  mount  his  horse. 

"  As  soon  as  I  begin  to  have  people  here,  I  hope 
you'll  come  often,"  said  Harry,  cordially.  "  Naturally 
we  shall  be  a  little  more  lively  than  we've  been  able 
to  be  of  late,  and  I  shall  hope  to  see  all  my  friends." 

He  did  not  instantly  understand  the  hesitation  in 
Bob's  manner  as  he  answered,  "  You're  very  kind.  I 
— I  shall  like  to  come." 

"  Blent  must  do  its  duty,"  Harry  pursued. 

Bob  turned  back  to  him,  leaving  his  horse  again. 
"  Yes,  I'll  come.  I  hope  I  know  how  to  take  a  licking, 
Tristram."    He  held  out  his  hand. 

"A  licking?"  Both  the  word  and  the  gesture 
seemed  to  surprise  Harry  Tristram. 

"  Oh,  you  know  what  I  mean.  You're  engaged  to 
her,  aren't  you?  Or  as  good  as  anyhow?  I  don't 
want  to  ask  questions " 

"  Not  even  as  good  as,  yet,"  answered  Harry  slowly. 

"  Of  course  you  know  what  I  feel.  Everybody 
knows  that,  though  I've  never  talked  about  it — even 
to  her." 


Tristraa/t  ^  Blent 

"Why  not  to  her?  Isn't  that  rather  usual  in  such 
cases?  "    Harry  was  smiHng  now. 

"  It  would  only  worry  her.  What  chance  should  I 
have?" 

"  Well,  I  don't  agree  with  being  too  humble." 

"  Oh,  I  don't  know  that  I'm  humble.  Perhaps  I 
think  myself  as  good  a  man  as  you.  But " — he 
laughed  a  little — "  I'm  Broadley  of  Mingham,  not 
Tristram  of  Blent." 

"  I  see.    That's  it  ?    And  our  friend  the  Major  ?  " 

"  I  shouldn't  so  much  mind  having  a  turn-up  with 
the  Major." 

"  But  Tristram  of  Blent  is — is  too  much?" 

"  It's  not  your  fault,  you  can't  help  it,"  smiled  Bob. 
"  You're  born  to  it  and "    He  ended  with  a  shrug. 

"  You're  very  fond  of  her?  "  Harry  asked,  frowning 
a  little. 

"  I've  been  in  love  with  her  all  my  life — ever  since 
they  came  to  Seaview.  Fairholme  wasn't  dreamed  of 
then." 

He  spoke  of  Fairholme  with  a  touch  of  bitterness 
which  he  hastened  to  correct  by  adding — "  Of  course 
I'm  glad  of  their  good  luck." 

"  You  mean,  if  it  were  Seaview  still  and  not  Fair- 
holme  ?" 

"  No,  I  don't.  I've  no  business  to  think  anything 
of  the  sort,  and  I  don't  think  it,"  Bob  interposed 
quickly.  "  You  asked  me  a  question  and  I  answered 
it.  I'm  not  in  a  position  to  know  anything  about  you, 
and  I'm  not  going  to  say  anything." 

"  A  good  many  reasons  enter  into  a  marriage  some- 
times," remarked  Harry. 

"  Yes,  with  people  like  you.    I  know  that." 

His  renewed  reference  to  Harry's  position  brought 
another  frown  to  Harry's  face,  but  it  was  the  frown 
of  thoughtfulness,  not  of  anger. 

[120] 


Behold  the   Heir! 

"  I  can't  quarrel  with  the  way  of  the  world,  and  I'm 
sure  if  it  does  come  off  you'll  be  good  to  her." 

"  You  think  I  don't  care  about  her — about  her  her- 
self?" 

"  I  don't  know,  I  tell  you.  I  don't  want  to  know. 
I  suppose  you  like  her." 

"  Yes,  I  like  her."  He  took  the  word  from  Bob  and 
made  no  attempt  to  alter  or  to  amplify  it. 

Bob  was  mounting  now ;  the  hour  was  late  for  him 
to  be  abroad  and  work  waited  him  in  the  morning. 

"  Good-night,  Tristram,"  he  said,  as  he  settled  in 
his  saddle. 

"  Good-night.  And,  Bob,  if  by  any  chance  it  doesn't 
come  off  with  me,  you  have  that  turn-up  with  the 
Major !  " 

"  Well,  I  don't  hke  the  idea  of  a  foreign  chap  com- 
ing down  and But,  mind  you,  Duplay's  a  very 

superior  fellow.    He  knows  the  deuce  of  a  lot." 

"  Thinks  he  does,  anyhow,"  said  Harry,  smiling 
again.  "  Good-night,  old  fellow,"  he  called  after  Bob 
in  a  very  friendly  voice  as  horse  and  rider  disappeared 
up  the  road. 

"  I  must  go  to  bed,  I  suppose,"  he  muttered  as  he  re- 
turned to  the  bridge  and  stood  leaning  on  the  para- 
pet. He  yawned,  not  in  weariness  but  in  a  reaction 
from  the  excitement  of  the  last  few  days.  His  emo- 
tional mood  had  passed  for  the  time  at  all  events ;  it 
was  succeeded  by  an  apathy  that  was  dull  without  be- 
ing restful.  And  in  its  general  effect  his  interview  with 
Bob  was  vaguely  vexatious  in  spite  of  its  cordial  char- 
acter. It  left  with  him  a  notion  which  he  rejected  but 
could  not  quite  get  rid  of — the  notion  that  he  was  tak- 
ing, or  (if  all  were  known)  would  be  thought  to  be 
taking,  an  unfair  advantage.  Bob  had  said  he 
was  born  to  it  and  that  he  could  not  help  it.  If  that 
had  indeed  been  so  in  the  fullest  possible  sense,  would 

[121] 


Tristram  of  Blent 

he  have  had  the  notion  that  irritated  him  now?  Yes, 
he  told  himself;  but  the  answer  did  not  quite  con- 
vince. Still  the  annoyance  was  no  more  than  a  rest- 
less suggestion  of  something  not  quite  satisfactory 
in  his  position,  and  worth  mentioning  only  as  the  first 
such  feeling  he  had  ever  had.  It  did  not  trouble  him 
seriously.  He  smoked  another  cigar  on  the  bridge 
and  then  went  into  the  house  and  to  bed.  As  he  un- 
dressed it  occurred  to  him  (and  the  idea  gave  him  both 
pleasure  and  amusement)  that  he  had  made  a  sort  of 
alliance  with  Bob  against  Duplay,  although  it  could 
come  into  operation  only  under  circumstances  which 
were  very  unlikely  to  happen. 

The  blinds  drawn  at  Blent  next  morning  told  Mina 
what  had  happened,  and  the  hour  of  eleven  found  her 
at  a  Committee  Meeting  at  Miss  Swinkerton's,  which 
she  certainly  would  not  have  attended  otherwise.  As 
it  was,  she  wanted  to  talk  and  to  hear,  and  the  gather- 
ing afforded  a  chance.  Mrs  Iver  was  there,  and  Mrs 
Trumbler  the  vicar's  wife,  a  meek  woman,  rather 
ousted  from  her  proper  position  by  the  energy  of  Miss 
Swinkerton  ;  she  was  to  manage  the  Bible-reading  de- 
partment, which  was  not  nearly  so  responsible  a  task 
as  conducting  the  savings-bank,  and  did  not  involve 
anything  like  the  same  amount  of  supervision  of  other 
people's  affairs.  Mrs  Trumbler  felt,  however,  that  on 
matters  of  morals  she  had  a  claim  to  speak  jure  mariti. 

"  It  is  so  sad !  "  she  murmured.  "  And  Mr  Trum- 
bler found  he  could  do  so  little !  He  came  home  quite 
distressed." 

"  I'm  told  she  wasn't  the  least  sensible  of  her  posi- 
tion," observed  Miss  S.,  with  what  looked  rather  like 
satisfaction. 

"Didn't  she  know  she  was  dying?"  asked  Mina, 
who  had  established  her  footing  by  a  hypocritical  show 
of  interest  in  the  cottage-gardens. 

[122] 


Behold  the   Heir! 

"  Oh,  yes,  she  knew  she  was  dying,  my  dear,"  said 
Miss  S.  What  poor  Lady  Tristram  might  have 
known,  but  apparently  had  not,  was  left  to  an  obvious 
inference. 

''  She  was  very  kind,"  remarked  Mrs  Iver.  "  Not 
exactly  actively,  you  know,  but  if  you  happened  to 
come  across  her."  She  rose  as  she  spoke  and  bade 
Miss  S.  farewell.  That  lady  did  not  try  to  detain  her, 
and  the  moment  the  door  had  closed  behind  her  re- 
marked : 

"  Of  course  Mrs  Iver  feels  in  a  delicate  position  and 
can't  say  anything  about  Lady  Tristram;  but  from 
what  I  hear  she  never  realized  the  peculiarity  of  her 
position.  No  (this  to  Mrs  Trumbler),  I  mean  in  the 
neighborhood,  Mrs  Trumbler.  And  the  young  man  is 
just  the  same.  But  I  should  have  liked  to  hear  that 
Mr  Trumbler  thought  it  came  home  to  her  at  the 
last." 

Mr  Trumblcr's  wife  shook  her  head  gently. 

"  Well,  now  we  shall  see,  I  suppose,"  Miss  S.  pur- 
sued. "  The  engagement  is  to  be  made  public  directly 
after  the  funeral." 

Mina  almost  started  at  this  authoritative  announce- 
ment. 

"  And  I  suppose  they'll  be  married  as  soon  as  they 
decently  can.  I'm  glad  for  Janie  Iver's  sake — not  that 
I  like  him,  the  little  I've  seen  of  him." 

"  We  never  see  him,"  said  Mrs  Trumbler. 

"  Not  at  church,  anyhow,"  added  Miss  S.  incisively. 
"  Perhaps  he'll  remember  what's  due  to  his  position 
now." 

"  Are  you  sure  they're  engaged  ?  "  asked  Mina. 

Miss  S.  looked  at  her  with  a  smile.  "  Certain,  my 
dear." 

"  How?  "  asked  Mina.  Mrs  Trumbler  stared  at  her 
in  surprised  rebuke. 

[123] 


Tristram  of  Blent 

"  When  I  make  a  mistake,  it  will  be  time  to  ask 
questions,"  observed  Miss  S.  with  dignity.  '*  For  the 
present  you  may  take  what  I  say.  I  can  wait  to  be 
proved  right,  Madame  Zabriska." 

"  I've  no  doubt  you're  right ;  only  I  thought  Janie 
would  have  told  me,"  said  Mina ;  she  had  no  wish  to 
quarrel  with  Miss  S. 

"  Janie  Tver's  very  secretive,  my  dear.  She  always 
was.    I  used  to  talk  to  Mrs  Iver  about  it  when  she  was 

a  little  girl.    And  in  your  case "  Miss  S.'s  smile 

could  only  refer  to  the  circumstance  that  Mina  was 
Major  Duplay's  niece  ;  the  Major's  manoeuvres  had 
not  escaped  Miss  S.'s  eye.  "  Of  course  the  funer- 
al will  be  very  quiet,"  Miss  S.  continued.  "  That 
avoids  so  many  difficulties.  The  people  who  would 
come  and  the  people  who  wouldn't — and  all  that,  you 
know." 

"  There  are  always  so  many  questions  about  fu- 
nerals," sighed  Mrs  Trumbler. 

"  I  hate  funerals,"  said  Mina.  "  I'm  going  to  be 
cremated." 

"  That  may  be  very  well  abroad,  my  dear,"  said  Miss 
S.  tolerantly,  "  but  you  couldn't  here.  The  question 
is,  will  Janie  Iver  go — and  if  she  does,  where  will  she 
walk  ?  " 

"  Oh,  I  should  hardly  think  she'd  go,  if  it's  not  an- 
nounced, you  know,"  said  Mrs  Trumbler. 

"  It's  sometimes  done,  and  I'm  told  she  would  walk 
just  behind  the  family.'' 

Mina  left  the  two  ladies  debating  this  point  of 
etiquette,  Miss  S.  showing  some  deference  to  Mrs 
Trumbler's  experience  in  this  particular  department, 
but  professing  to  be  fortified  in  her  own  view  by  the 
opinion  of  an  undertaker  with  a  wide  connection.  She 
reflected,  as  she  got  into  her  pony  carriage,  that  it  is 
impossible  even  to  die  without  affording  a  good  deal 

[124] 


Behold  the   Heir! 

of  pleasure  to  other  people — surely  a  fortunate  feature 
of  the  world  ! 

On  her  way  home  she  stopped  to  leave  cards  at 
Blent,  and  was  not  surprised  when  Harry  Tristram 
came  out  of  his  study,  having  seen  her  through  the 
window,  and  greeted  her. 

"  Send  your  trap  home  and  walk  up  the  hill  with 
me,"  he  suggested,  and  she  fell  in  with  his  wish  very 
readily.     They  crossed  the  foot-bridge  together. 

"  I've  just  been  writing  to  ask  my  relations  to  the 
funeral,"  he  said.  "  At  my  mother's  wish,  not  mine. 
Only  two  of  them — and  I  never  saw  them  in  my 
hfe." 

"  I  shouldn't  think  you'd  cultivate  your  relations 
much." 

"  No.  But  Cecily  Gainsborough  ought  to  come,  I 
suppose.    She's  my  heir." 

Mina  turned  to  him  with  a  gesture  of  interest  or 
surprise. 

"  Your  heir?  "  she  said.     "  You  mean ?  " 

"  I  mean  that  if  I  died  without  having  any  children, 
she'd  succeed  me.  She'd  be  Lady  Tristram  in  her  own 
right,  as  my  mother  was."  He  faced  round  and 
looked  at  Blent.  "  She's  never  been  to  the  place  or 
seen  it  yet,"  he  added. 

"  How  intensely  interested  she'll  be!  " 

"  I  don't  see  why  she  should,"  said  Harry  rather 
crossly.  "  It's  a  great  bore  having  her  here  at  all,  and 
if  I'm  barely  civil  to  her  that's  all  I  shall  manage. 
They  won't  stay  more  than  a  few  days,  I  suppose." 
After  a  second  he  went  on :  "  Her  mother  wouldn't 
know  my  mother,  thougli  after  her  death  the  father 
wanted  to  be  reconciled." 

"  Is  that  why  you  dislike  them  so  ?  " 

"  How  do  you  know  I  dislike  them  ?  "  he  asked, 
seeming  surprised. 

[125] 


Tristram   oJ"  Blent 

"  It's  pretty  evident,  isn't  it  ?  And  it  would  be  a 
good  reason  for  disliking  the  mother  anyhow." 

"  But  not  the  daughter?  " 

"  No,  and  you  seem  to  dislike  the  daughter  too — 
which  isn't  fair." 

"  Oh,  I  take  the  family  in  the  lump.  And  I  don't 
know  that  what  we've  been  talking  of  has  anything  to 
do  with  it." 

He  did  not  seem  inclined  to  talk  more  about  the 
Gainsboroughs,  though  his  frown  told  her  that  some- 
thing distasteful  was  still  in  his  thoughts.  What  he 
had  said  was  enough  to  rouse  in  her  a  great  interest 
and  curiosity  about  this  girl  who  was  his  heir.  Ques- 
tions and  rights  attracted  her  mind  very  little  till  they 
came  to  mean  people ;  then  she  was  keen  on  tlTe  track 
of  the  human  side  of  the  matter.  The  girl  whom  he 
chose  to  call  his  heir  was  really  the  owner  of  Blent ! 

"  Are  you  going  to  ask  us  to  the  funeral  ?  "  she  said. 

"  I'm  not  going  to  ask  anybody.  The  churchyard 
is  free ;   they  can  come  if  they  like." 

"  I  shall  come.    Shall  you  disUke  my  coming?  " 

"  Oh,  no."  He  was  undisguisedly  indifferent  and 
almost  bored. 

"  And  then  I  shall  see  Cecily  Gainsborough." 

"  Have  a  good  look  at  her.  You'll  not  have  another 
chance  —  at  Blent  anyhow.  She'll  never  come  here 
again." 

She  looked  at  him  in  wonder,  in  a  sort  of  fear. 

"  How  hard  you  are  sometimes,"  she  said.  "  The 
poor  girl's  done  nothing  to  you." 

He  shook  his  head  impatiently  and  came  to  a  stand 
on  the  road. 

"  You're  going  back  ?     Good-by,  Lord  Tristram." 

"  I'm  not  called  that  till  after  the  funeral,"  he  told 
her,  looking  as  suspicious  as  he  had  in  the  earliest 
davs  of  their  acquaintance. 

[126] 


Behold  the   Heir! 

"  And  will  you  let  me  go  on  living  at  Merrion — or 
coming  every  summer  anyhow  ?  " 

"  Do  you  think  of  coming  again  ?  " 

"  I  want  to,"  she  answered  with  some  nervousness 
in  her  manner. 

"  And  Major  Duplay  ?  "    He  smiled  slightly. 

"  I  don't  know  whether  he  would  want.  Should 
you  object?  " 

"  Oh,  no,"  said  Harry,  again  with  the  weary  in- 
difference that  seemed  to  have  fastened  on  him  now. 

"  I've  been  gossiping,"  she  said,  "  with  Mrs  Trum- 
bler  and  Miss  Swinkerton." 

"  Good  Lord  !  " 

"  Miss  Swinkerton  says  your  engagement  to  Janie 
will  be  announced  directly  after  the  funeral." 

"  And  Major  Duplay  says  that  directly  it's  an- 
nounced  !  " 

"  You  don't  mean  to  tell  me  anything  about  it?  " 

"  Really,  I  don't  see  why  I  should.  Well,  if  you  like 
— I  want  to  marry  her." 

Mina  had  really  known  this  well  for  a  long  while, 
yet  she  did  not  like  to  hear  it.  She  had  been  spinning 
fancies  about  the  man  ;  what  he  had  in  his  mind  for 
himself  was  very  prosaic.  At  least  it  seemed  so  to  her 
— though  she  would  have  appreciated  the  dramatic  side 
of  it,  had  he  told  her  of  his  idea  of  living  with  the  big 
check  by  him. 

"  I  can't  help  thinking  that  somehow  you'll  do  some- 
thing more  exciting  than  that." 

"She  won't  marry  me?"  He  w^as  not  looking  at 
her,  and  he  spoke  rather  absently. 

"  I  don't  suppose  she'll  refuse  you,  but — no,  I've 
just  a  feeling.     I  can't  explain." 

"  A  feeling?  What  feeling?  "  He  was  irritable,  but 
hfs  attention  was  caught  again. 

"  That  something  morc's  waiting  for  you." 

[127] 


Tristram   <?/^  Blent 

"  That  it's  my  business  to  go  on  affording  you 
amusement  perhaps  ?  " 

Mina  glanced  at  him  ;  he  was  smihng ;  he  had  be- 
come good-tempered. 

"  Oh,  I  don't  expect  you  to  do  it  for  that  reason,  but 
if  you  do  it " 

"  Do  what  ?  "  he  asked,  laughing  outright. 

"  I  don't  know.  But  if  you  do,  I  shall  be  there  to 
see — looking  so  hard  at  you,  Mr  Tristram."  She 
paused,  and  then  added,  "  I  should  like  Cecily  Gains- 
borough to  come  into  it  too." 

"  Confound  Cecily  Gainsborough !  Good-by/'  said 
Harry. 

He  left  with  her  two  main  impressions ;  the  first 
was  that  he  had  not  the  least  love  for  the  girl  whom 
he  meant  to  marry ;  the  second  that  he  hardly  cared 
to  deny  to  her  that  he  hated  Cecily  Gainsborough  be- 
cause she  was  the  owner  of  Blent. 

"  All  the  same,"  she  thought,  "  I  suppose  he'll 
marry  Janic,  and  I'm  certain  he'll  keep  Blent."  Yet 
he  seemed  to  take  no  pleasure  in  his  prospects  and  just 
at  this  moment  not  much  in  his  possessions.  Mina 
was  puzzled,  but  did  not  go  so  far  wrong  as  to  con- 
ceive him  conscience-stricken.  She  concluded  that  she 
must  wait  for  light. 


[128] 


XI 

A    Phantom    by    the    Pool 

IN  a  quite  little  street  running  between  the  Fulham 
and  the  King's  Road,  in  a  row  of  small  houses  not 
yet  improved  out  of  existence,  there  was  one  house 
smallest  of  all,  with  the  smallest  front,  the  smallest 
back,  and  the  smallest  garden.  The  whole  thing  was 
almost  impossibly  small,  a  peculiarity  properly  re- 
flected in  the  rent  which  Mr  Gainsborough  paid  to 
the  firm  of  Sloyd,  Sloyd,  and  Gurney  for  the  fag-end 
of  a  long  lease.  He  did  some  professional  work  for 
Sloyds  from  time  to  time,  and  that  member  of  the  firm 
who  had  let  Merrion  Lodge  to  Mina  Zabriska  was  on 
friendly  terms  with  him  ;  so  that  perhaps  the  rent  was 
a  little  lower  still  than  it  would  have  been  otherwise ; 
even  trifling  reductions  counted  as  important  things 
in  the  Gainsborough  Ikidget.  Being  thus  small,  the 
house  was  naturally  full ;  the  three  people  who  lived 
there  were  themselves  enough  to  account  for  that. 
But  it  was  also  unnaturally  full  by  reason  of  Mr  Gains- 
borough's habit  of  acquiring  old  furniture  of  no  value, 
and  new  bric-a-brac  whose  worth  could  be  expressed 
only  by  minus  signs.  These  things  flooded  floors  and 
walls,  and  overflowed  on  to  the  strip  of  gravel  behind. 
From  time  to  time  many  of  them  disappeared ;  there 
were  periodical  revolts  on  Cecily's  part,  resulting  m 
clearances  ;  the  gaps  were  soon  made  good  by  a  fresh 
influx  of  the  absolutely  undesirable.  When  Sloyd 
came  he  looked  round  with  a  professional  desi)air  that 
there  was  not  a  thing  in  the  place  which  would  fetch 

[129] 


Tristram   of  Blent 

a  sovereign !  Such  is  the  end  of  seeking  beauty  on  an 
empty  purse ;  some  find  a  pathos  in  it,  but  it  is  more 
generally  regarded  as  a  folly  in  the  seeker,  a  wrong  to 
his  dependents,  and  a  nuisance  to  his  friends. 

In  no  other  way  could  Gainsborough — Melton  John 
Gainsborough,  Architect — be  called  a  nuisance,  unless 
by  Harry  Tristram's  capricious  pleasure.  For  he  was 
very  unobtrusive,  small  like  his  house,  lean  like  his 
purse,  shabby  as  his  furniture,  humbler  than  his  bric- 
a-brac.  He  asked  very  little  of  the  world;  it  gave 
him  half,  and  he  did  not  complain.  He  was  never 
proud  of  anything,  but  he  was  gratified  by  his  honor- 
able descent  and  by  his  alliance  with  the  Tristrams. 
The  family  instinct  was  very  strong  in  him.  Among 
the  rubbish  he  bought  somebody  else's  pedigree  was 
often  to  be  found.  His  wife's  hung  framed  on  the 
wall  (ending  with  "  Adelaide  Louisa  Aimee  "  in  large 
letters  for  one  branch,  and  "  Cecily  "  in  small  for  the 
other) ;  his  own  was  the  constant  subject  of  unprofit- 
able searchings  in  county  histories — one  aspect  of 
his  remarkable  genius  for  the  unremunerative  in  all 
its  respectable  forms.  He  worked  very  hard  and  gave 
the  impression  of  doing  nothing — and  the  impression 
perhaps  possessed  the  higher  truth.  Anyhow,  while 
he  and  his  had  (thanks  to  a  very  small  property  which 
came  with  the  late  Mrs  Gainsborough)  always  just 
enough  to  eat,  they  had  always  just  not  enough  of 
anything  else ;    short  commons  were  the  rule. 

And  now  they  were  going  to  Blent.  Sloyd,  call- 
ing on  a  matter  of  business  and  pleasantly  excusing 
his  intrusion  by  the  payment  of  some  fees,  had  heard 
about  it  from  Gainsborough.  "  This'll  just  take  us  to 
Blent !  "  the  little  gentleman  had  observed  with  satis- 
faction as  he  waved  the  slip  of  paper.  Sloyd  knew 
Blent  and  could  take  an  interest ;  he  described  it,  rais- 
ing his  voice  so  that  it  travelled  beyond  the  room  and 

[130J 


A   Phantom   by  the   Pool 

reached  the  hammock  in  the  garden  where  Cecily  lay. 
She  liked  a  hammock,  and  her  father  could  not  stand 
china  figures  and  vases  on  it,  so  that  it  secured  her 
where  to  lay  her  head.  Gainsborough  was  very  fussy 
over  the  news ;  a  deeper  but  quieter  excitement 
glowed  in  Cecily's  eyes  as,  listening  to  Sloyd,  she 
feigned  to  pay  no  heed.  She  had  designs  on  the  check. 
Beauty  unadorned  may  mean  several  things ;  but 
moralists  cannot  be  right  in  twisting  the  commenda- 
tion of  it  into  a  eulogium  on  thread-bare  frocks.  She 
must  have  a  funeral  frock. 

Sloyd  came  to  the  door  which  opened  on  the  gar- 
den, and  greeted  her.  He  was  as  smart  as  usual,  his 
tie  a  new  creation,  his  hat  mirroring  the  sun.  Cecily 
was  shabby  from  necessity  and  somewhat  touzled 
from  lolling  in  the  hammock.  She  looked  up  at  him, 
smiling  in  a  lazy  amusement. 

"Do  you  ever  wear  the  same  hat  twice?"  she 
asked. 

"  Must  have  a  good  hat  in  my  profession,  Miss 
Gainsborough.  You  never  know  where  you'll  be  sent 
for.  The  Duchess  of  This,  or  L.ady  That,  loses  her 
money  at  cards  —  or  the  Earl  drops  a  bit  at  New- 
market— must  let  the  house  for  the  season — sends  oflf 
for  me — mustn't  catch  me  in  an  old  hat !  " 

"Yes,  I  see!" 

"  Besides,  you  may  say  what  you  like,  but  a  gentle- 
man ought  to  wear  a  good  hat.  It  stamps  him,  Miss 
Gainsborough." 

"  Yours  positively  illuminates  you.  I  could  find  the 
way  by  you  on  the  darkest  night." 

"  With  just  a  leetle  touch  of  oil "  he  admitted 

cautiously,  not  cjuite  sure  how  far  she  was  serious  in 
the  admiration  her  eyes  seemed  to  express.  "  What 
have  you  been  doing  with  yourself?  "  he  asked,  break- 
ing off  after  his  sufficient  confession. 

[131] 


Tristram  ^"  Blent 

"  I've  been  drawing  up  advertisements  of  my  own 
accomplishments."  She  sat  up  suddenly.  "  Oh,  why 
didn't  I  ask  you  to  help  me?  You'd  have  made  me 
sound  eligible  and  desirable,  and  handsome  and  spa- 
cious, and  all  the  rest  of  it.  And  I  found  nothing  at  all 
to  say !  " 

"  What  are  you  advertising  for?" 

"  Somebody  who  knows  less  French  than  I  do.  But 
I  shall  wait  till  we  come  back  now."  She  yawned 
a  little.  "  I  don't  in  the  least  want  to  earn  my  living, 
you  know,"  she  added  candidly,  "  and  there's  no  way 
I  could  honestly.  I  don't  really  know  any  French  at 
all." 

Sloyd  regarded  her  with  mingled  pleasure  and  pain. 
His  taste  was  for  more  robust  beauty  and  more  strik- 
ing raiment,  and  she — no,  she  was  not  neat.  Yet  he 
decided  that  she  would,  as  he  put  it,  pay  for  dressing ; 
she  wanted  some  process  analogous  to  the  thorough 
repair  which  he  loved  to  see  applied  to  old  houses. 
Then  she  would  be  attractive — not  his  sort,  of  course, 
but  still  attractive. 

"  I  wonder  if  you'll  meet  Madame  Zabriska,  the  lady 
I  let  Merrion  Lodge  to,  and  the  gentleman  with  her, 
her  uncle." 

"  I  expect  not.  My  cousin  invites  us  for  the  funeral. 
It's  on  Saturday.  I  suppose  we  shall  stay  the  Sunday, 
that's  all.  And  I  don't  suppose  we  shall  see  anybody, 
to  speak  to,  anyhow."  Her  air  was  very  careless  ;  the 
whole  thing  was  represented  as  rather  a  bore. 

*'  You  should  make  a  longer  visit  —  I'm  sure  his 
lordship  will  be  delighted  to  have  you,  and  it's  a 
charming  neighborhood,  a  very  desirable  neighbor- 
hood indeed." 

"  I  dare  say.  But  desirable  things  don't  generally 
come  our  way,  Mr  Sloyd,  or  at  any  rate  not  much  of 
them." 

[132] 


A   Phantom   by  the  Pool 

"  It's  pretty  odd  to  think  it'd  all  be  yours  if — if  any- 
thing happened  to  Lord  Tristram."  His  tone  showed 
a  mixture  of  amusement  and  awe.  She  was  what  he 
saw — she  might  become  My  Lady !  The  incongruity 
reached  his  sense  of  humor,  \vhile  her  proximity  to  a 
noble  status  nearly  made  him  take  off  his  hat. 

"  It  may  be  pretty  odd,"  she  said  indolently,  "  but  it 
doesn't  do  me  much  good,  does  it?  " 

This  last  remark  summed  up  the  attitude  which 
Cecily  had  always  adopted  about  Blent,  and  she  chose 
to  maintain  it  now  that  she  was  at  last  to  see  Blent. 
Probably  her  father's  family  instinct  had  driven  her 
into  an  insincere  opposition  ;  or  she  did  not  consider  it 
dignified  to  show  interest  in  relatives  who  had  shown 
none  in  her.  She  had  never  been  asked  to  Blent.  If 
she  was  asked  now  it  was  as  a  duty ;  as  a  duty  she 
would  go.  Harry  did  not  monopolize  the  Tristram 
blood  or  the  Tristram  pride.  But  this  attitude  was  not 
very  comprehensible  to  her  present  companion.  As  a 
personal  taste,  Mr  Sloyd  would  have  liked  to  be  con- 
nected, however  remotely,  with  the  aristocracy,  and, 
if  he  had  been,  would  have  let  his  social  circle  hear  a 
good  deal  about  it ;  even  a  business  connection  was 
something,  and  suffered  no  loss  of  importance  in  his 
practised  hands. 

Yet  in  her  heart  she  was  on  fire  with  an  excitement 
which  Sloyd  would  have  wondered  at,  and  which 
made  her  father's  fussy  nervousness  seem  absurd.  At 
last  she  was  to  see  with  her  eyes  the  things  she  had 
always  heard  of.  She  was  to  see  Blent.  Addie  Tris- 
tram indeed  she  could  no  longer  see ;  that  had  always 
been  denied  to  her,  and  the  loss  was  irreparable.  But 
even  the  dead  Lady  Tristram  she  would  soon  be  able 
to  realize  far  better  than  she  had  yet  done ;  she  would 
put  her  into  her  surroundings.  And  Harry  would  be 
there,  the  cousin  who  had  never  been  cousinly,  the 

[133] 


Tristram  <?/ Blent 

young  man  whom  she  did  not  know  and  who  was  a 
factor  of  such  importance  in  her  Hfe.  She  had  dreams 
in  abundance  about  the  expedition ;  and  it  was  in  vain 
that  reason  said  "  It'll  be  all  over  in  three  days.  Then 
back  to  the  little  house  and  the  need  for  that  advertise- 
ment !  "  Luckily,  this  sort  of  suggestion,  made  by 
reason,  never  sounds  probable,  however  well  reason 
proves  to  us  that  it  must  come  to  pass.  Cecily  was 
sure  that  at  last — ah,  at  last ! — a  change  in  life  had 
come.  Life  had  been  always  so  very  much  the  same ; 
changes  generally  need  money,  and  money  had  not 
been  hers.  Knowledge  usually  needs  money  too,  and 
of  the  kinds  of  life  outside  her  own  narrow  sphere  she 
was  very  ignorant.  Beautiful  things  also  need  money  ; 
of  them  she  had  seen  and  enjoyed  very  little ;  only 
the  parodies  came  to  the  small  house  in  the  small 
road.  All  these  things  joined  to  make  her  feel  that  a 
great  moment  was  at  hand ;  she  might  and  did  deride 
herself,  but  the  feeling  was  there,  and  at  last  she  ad- 
mitted it  to  her  father  when  she  said  with  a  little  laugh  : 

"  I  don't  suppose  anybody  ever  was  so  excited  over 
a  funeral  before  !  " 

But  perhaps  there  was  ignorance  in  that  remark  too. 
It  has  been  seen,  for  instance,  that  Miss  Swinkerton 
and  her  friends  could  be  very  excited,  although  they 
had  not  the  excuse  of  youth,  of  dreams,  or  of  any  kin- 
ship with  the  Tristrams. 

"  It's  begun !  "  Cecily  said  to  herself  when,  three 
days  afterward,  they  got  out  of  their  third-class  car- 
riage and  got  into  the  landau  that  waited  for  them. 
The  footman,  touching  his  hat,  asked  if  Miss  Gains- 
borough had  brought  a  maid.  ("  The  maid,"  not  "  A 
maid,"  was  the  form  of  reference  familiar  to  Miss 
Gainsborough.)  Her  father  was  in  new  black,  she 
was  in  new  black,  the  two  trunks  had  been  well 
polished;  and  the  seats  of  the  landau  were  very  soft. 

[134] 


A   Phantom   by  the   Pool 

"  They  don't  use  the  Fitzhubert  crest,  I  observe," 
remarked  Gainsborough.  "  Only  the  Tristram  fox. 
Did  you  notice  it  on  the  harness?  " 

"  I  was  gazing  with  all  my  eyes  at  the  coronet  on 
the  panel,"  she  answered,  laughing. 

A  tall  and  angular  lady  came  up  and  spoke  to  the 
footman,  as  he  was  about  to  mount  the  box. 

"  At  two  on  Saturday,  miss,"  they  heard  him  reply. 
Miss  Swinkerton  nodded,  and  walked  slowly  past  the 
carriage,  giving  the  occupants  a  leisurely  stare.  Of 
course  Miss  S.  had  known  the  time  of  the  funeral 
quite  well ;  now  her  intimates  would  be  made  equally 
well  acquainted  with  the  appearance  of  the  visitors. 

Blent  was  in  full  beauty  that  summer  evening,  and 
the  girl  sat  in  entranced  silence  as  they  drove  by  the 
river  and  came  where  the  old  house  stood.  The 
blinds  w^ere  down,  the  escutcheon,  with  the  Tristram 
fox  again,  above  the  door  in  the  central  tower.  They 
were  ushered  into  the  library.  Gainsborough's  eyes 
ran  over  the  books  with  a  longing  envious  glance ; 
his  daughter  turned  to  the  window,  to  look  at  the 
Blent  and  up  to  Merrion.  A  funny  remembrance  of 
Sloyd  crossed  her  mind,  and  she  smiled.  Had  she 
already  so  caught  the  air  of  the  place  that  Sloyd 
seemed  to  her  both  remote  and  very  plebeian  ?  Turn- 
ing her  head,  she  saw  the  left  wing  with  the  row  of 
windows  that  lighted  the  Long  Gallery ;  she  had  never 
seen  such  a  room  in  a  private  house,  and  thought 
there  must  be  several  rooms  in  that  wing.  A 
man-servant  brought  in  tea,  and  told  them  that  Mr 
Tristram  was  engaged  in  pressing  business  and 
begged  to  be  excused  ;  dinner  would  be  at  8.15.  Dis- 
appointed at  her  host's  invisibility,  she  gave  her  father 
tea  with  a  languid  air.  The  little  man  was  nervous 
and  excited  ;  he  walked  the  carpet  carefully  ;  but  soon 
he  pounced   on   a   book — a   county   history — and   sat 

[135] 


Tristram  ^' Blent 

down  with  it.  After  a  few  minutes'  idleness  Cecily 
rose,  strolled  into  the  hall,  and  thence  out  into  the 
garden.  The  hush  of  the  house  had  become  oppres- 
sive to  her. 

Yes,  everything  was  very  beautiful ;    she  felt  that 
again,  and  drank  it  in,  indulging  her  thirst  so  long  un- 
satisfied.    She  had  seen  larger  places,  such  palaces 
as  all  the  folk  of  London  are  allowed  to  see.     The 
present  scene  was  new.     And  in  the  room  above  lay 
Addie  Tristram  in  her  cofifin — the  lovely  strange  wom- 
an of  whom  her  mother  had  told  her.    She  would  not 
see  Lady  Tristram,  but  she  seemed  now  to  see  all  her 
Hfe  and  to  be  able  to  picture  her,  to  understand  why 
she  did  the  things  they  talked  of,  and  what  manner  of 
woman   she   had   been.      She   wandered   to   the   little 
bridge.     The   stream   below  was   the   Blent!     Geog- 
raphies  might   treat   the   rivulet   with   scanty   notice 
and   with   poor  respect ;    to   her  it  was  Jordan — the 
sacred  river.    Might  not  its  god  have  been  ancestor  to 
all  the  Tristrams?    In  such  a  place  as  this  one  could 
have  many  such  fancies ;  they  would  come  to  feed  the 
mind  and  make  it  grow,  to  transform  it  into  something 
that  could  appreciate  poetry.    A  big  rose-tree  climbed 
the  wall  of  the  right  wing.    Who  had  picked  its  blos- 
soms and  through  how  many  years  ?    Its  flowers  must 
often    have    adorned    Addie    Tristram's    unsurpassed 
loveliness.     After  the  years  of  short  commons  there 
came  this  bountiful  feast  to  her  soul.    She  felt  herself 
a  Tristram.    A  turn  of  chance  might  have  made  all  this 
her  own.     Her  breath  seemed  to  stop  as  she  thought 
of  this.     The  idea  now  was  far  different  from  what 
it  had  sounded  when  Sloyd  gave  it  utterance  in  the 
tiny  strip  of  garden  behind  the  tiny  house,  and  she  had 
greeted  it  with  scorn  and  a  mocking  smile.     She  did 
not  want  all  this  for  her  own ;  but  she  did  want — how 
she  wanted ! — to  be  allowed  to  stop  and  look  at  it,  to 

[136] 


A  Phantom   by  the   Pool 

stay  long  enough  to  make  it  part  of  her  and  have  it  to 
carry  back  with  her  to  her  home  between  the  King's 
Road  and  the  Fulham  Road  in  London. 

She  crossed  the  bridge  and  walked  up  the  valley. 
Twenty  minutes  brought  her  to  the  Pool.  It  opened 
on  her  with  a  new  surprise.  The  sun  had  just  left 
it  and  its  darkness  was  touched  by  mystery.  The 
steep  wooded  bank  opposite  cast  a  dull  heavy  shadow 
across  half  the  surface ;  the  low  lapping  of  the  water 
sounded  Hke  somebody  whispering  old  secrets  that 
she  seemed  half  to  hear,  garrulous  histories  of  the  dead 
— the  dead  whose  blood  was  in  her  veins — old  glories, 
old  scandals,  old  trifles,  all  mixed  together,  all  of  great 
importance  in  the  valley  of  the  Blent.  Who  cares 
about  such  things  in  London,  about  anybody's  family, 
or  anybody  himself  ?  There  is  no  time  for  such  things 
in  London.  It  is  very  different  in  the  valley  of  the 
Blent  when  the  sun  is  low  and  the  cry  of  a  bird  makes 
a  sound  too  shrill  to  be  welcome. 

Turning  by  chance  to  look  up  the  road  toward 
Mingham,  she  saw  a  man  coming  down  the  hill.  He 
was  sauntering  idly  along,  beating  the  grass  by  the 
road-side  with  his  stick.  Suddenly  he  stopped  short, 
put  his  hand  above  his  eyes,  and  gave  her  a  long  look ; 
he  seemed  to  start.  Then  he  began  to  walk  toward 
her  with  a  rapid  eager  stride.  She  turned  away  and 
strolled  along  by  the  Pool  on  her  way  back  to  Blent 
Hall.  But  he  would  not  be  denied;  his  tread  came 
nearer ;  he  overtook  her  and  halted  almost  by  her 
side,  raising  his  hat  and  gazing  with  uncompromising 
straightness  in  her  face.  She  knew  him  at  once;  he 
must  be  Harry  Tristram.  Was  lounging  about  the 
roads  his  pressing  business? 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,"  he  said  with  a  curious  ap- 
pearance of  agitation.  "  I  am  Harry  Tristram,  and 
you  must  be ?" 

[137] 


Tristram  ^Blent 

"  Cecily  Gainsborough,"  said  she  with  a  distant 
manner,  incHned  to  be  offended  that  their  meeting 
should  be  by  accident.  Why  had  he  not  received  his 
guests  if  he  had  nothing  to  do  but  lounge  about  the 
roads  ? 

"  Yes,  I  was  sure.  The  moment  I  thought,  I  was 
sure."  He  took  no  heed  of  her  manner,  engrossed  in 
some  preoccupation  of  his  own.  "  At  first  I  was 
startled."  He  smiled  now,  as  he  offered  her  his  hand. 
Then  he  recollected.  "  You  must  forgive  me  for  being 
out.  I  have  been  hard  at  work  all  day,  and  the  craving 
for  the  evening  was  on  me.  I  went  out  without  think- 
ing." 

"  They  said  you  were  engaged  on  pressing  busi- 
ness." 

"  They  lied  for  me.  I  forgot  to  leave  any  message. 
I'm  not  generally  discourteous." 

His  apology  disarmed  her  and  made  her  resentment 
seem  petty. 

"  How  could  you  think  of  us  at  such  a  time  ?  It's 
good  of  you  to  have  us  at  all." 

"  My  mother  wanted  you  to  come."  He  added  no 
welcome  of  his  own.  "  You  never  saw  her,  did  you  ?  " 
he  asked  a  moment  later. 

Cecily  shook  her  head.  She  was  rather  confused  by 
the  steady  gaze  of  his  eyes.  Did  Cousin  Harry  always 
stare  at  people  as  hard  as  that  ?  Yet  it  was  not  exactly 
a  stare ;  it  was  too  thoughtful,  too  ruminative,  too 
unconscious  for  that. 

"  Let's  walk  back  together.  You've  had  a  look  at 
the  place  already  perhaps?" 

"  It's  very  beautiful." 

"  Yes,"  he  assented  absently,  as  they  began  to  walk. 

If  she  did  not  stare,  still  she  used  her  eyes,  curi- 
ously studying  his  face  with  its  suggestion  of  strength 
and  that  somehow  rather  inconsistent  hint  of  sensitive- 

[138] 


A   Phantom   by  the  Pool 

ness.  He  was  gloomy ;  that  was  just  now  only 
proper.  She  saw  something  that  puzzled  her;  Mina 
Zabriska  could  have  told  her  what  it  was,  but  she  her- 
self did  not  succeed  in  identifying  Harry's  watching 
look.  She  was  merely  puzzled  at  a  certain  shade  of 
expression  in  the  eyes.  She  had  not  seen  it  at  the  first 
moment,  but  it  was  there  now  as  he  turned  to  her  from 
time  to  time  while  they  sauntered  along. 

"  That's  Merrion,  our  dower-house.  But  it's  let 
now  to  a  funny  little  woman,  Madame  Zabriska.  She's 
rather  a  friend  of  mine,  but  her  uncle,  who  lives  with 
her,  doesn't  like  me.''  He  smiled  as  he  spoke  of  the 
Major.    "  She's  very  much  interested  in  you." 

"  In  me?     Has  she  heard  of  me?" 

"  She  hears  of  most  things.  She's  as  sharp  as  a 
needle.     I   like  her  though." 

He  said  no  more  till  they  were  back  in  the  garden ; 
then  he  proposed  that  they  should  sit  down  on  the  seat 
by  the  river. 

"  My  mother  used  to  sit  here  often,"  he  said.  "  She 
always  loved  to  see  the  sun  go  down  from  the  garden. 
She  didn't  read  or  do  anvthing;  she  just  sat  watch- 
ing." 

"  Thinking?  "  Cecily  suggested. 

"  Well,  hardly.  Letting  thoughts  happen  if  they 
wanted  to,  perhaps.  She  was  always  rather — rather 
passive  about  things,  you  know.  They  took  hold  of 
her  if — well,  as  I  say,  if  they  wanted  to."  He  turned 
to  her  quickly  as  he  asked,  "  Are  you  at  all  like  that?  " 

"  I  believe  I'm  only  just  beginning  to  find  out  that 
I'm  anything  or  like  anything.  And,  anyhow,  I'm 
quite  different  from  what  I  was  yesterday." 

"  From  yesterday  ?  " 

"  Yes.    Just  by  coming  here,  I  think." 

"  That's  what  I  mean !  Things  do  take  hold  of  you 
then?" 

[139] 


Tristram   ^Blent 

"  This  place  does  apparently,"  she  answered  laugh- 
ing-, as  she  leaned  back  on  the  seat,  throwing  her  arm 
behind  her  and  resting  her  head  on  it.  She  caught 
him  looking  at  her  again  with  marked  and  almost 
startled  intensity.  He  was  rather  strange  with  his 
alternations  of  apparent  forgetfulness  and  this  embar- 
rassing scrutiny. 

"  Tell  me  about  yourself,"  he  asked,  or  rather  com- 
manded, so  brusque  and  direct  was  the  request. 

She  told  him  about  the  small  house  and  the  small 
life  she  had  led  in  it,  even  about  the  furniture  and  the 
bric-a-brac,  confessing  to  her  occasional  clearances 
and  the  deception  she  had  to  practise  on  her  father 
about  them.  He  was  very  silent,  but  he  was  a  good 
listener.  Soon  he  began  to  smoke,  but  did  not  ask 
leave.  This  might  be  rudeness,  but  seemed  a  rather 
cousinly  sort  of  rudeness,  and  was  readily  forgiven. 

"  And  suddenly  I  come  to  all  this !  "  she  murmured. 
Then  with  a  start  she  added,  "  But  I'm  forgetting  your 
mother's  death  and  what  you  must  feel,  and  chattering 
about  myself !  " 

"  I  asked  you  to  talk  about  yourself.  Is  it  such  a 
great  change  to  come  here  ?  " 

"  Immense !  To  come  here  even  for  a  day !  Im- 
mense !  "  She  waved  her  hand  a  moment  and  found 
him  following  it  with  his  eyes  as  it  moved. 

"  You  don't  look,"  he  said  slowly,  "  as  if  it  was  any 
change  at  all." 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  "  she  asked,  interested  in 
what  he  seemed  to  suggest. 

"  You  fit  in,"  he  murmured,  looking  up  at  the  house 
— at  the  window  of  Addie  Tristram's  room.  "  And 
you're  very  poor?"  he  asked. 

"Yes.    And  you !" 

"  Oh,  I'm  not  rich  as  such  things  go.  The  estate 
has  fallen  in  value  very  much,  you  know.    But " 

[140] 


A   Phantom   by  the   Pool 

He  broke  ofif,  frowning  a  little.  "  Still  we're  comfort- 
able enough,"  he  resumed. 

"  I  should  think  so.  You'd  always  have  it  to  look 
at  anyhow.    What  did  you  think  I  should  be  like  ?  " 

"  Anything  in  the  world  but  what  you  are." 

The  tone  was  at  once  too  sincere  and  too  absent 
for  a  compliment.  Cecily  knew  herself  not  to  be 
plain ;  but  he  was  referring  to  something  else  than 
that. 

"  In  fact  I  hardly  thought  of  you  as  an  individual 
at  all.    You  were  the  Gainsboroughs." 

"  And  you  didn't  like  the  Gainsboroughs  ? "  she 
cried  in  a  flash  of  intuition. 

"  No,  I  didn't,"  he  admitted. 

"  Why  not  ?  " 

"  A  prejudice,"  answered  Harry  Tristram  after  a 
pause. 

She  crossed  her  legs,  sticking  one  foot  out  in  front 
of  her  and  looking  at  it  thoughtfully.  He  followed  the 
movement  and  slowly  broke  into  a  smile ;  it  was  fol- 
lowed by  an  impatient  shrug.  With  the  feminine  in- 
stinct she  pushed  her  gown  lower  down,  half  over  the 
foot.  Harry  laughed.  She  looked  up,  blushing  and 
inclined  to  be  angry. 

"  Oh,  it  wasn't  that,"  he  said,  laughing  again  rather 

contemptuously.     "  But "     He  rose,  took   some 

paces  along  the  lawn,  and  then,  coming  back,  stood 
beside  her,  staring  at  the  Blent  and  frowning  rather 
formidably. 

"  Did  you  see  me  when  I  first  saw  you  by  the  Pool  ?  " 
he  asked  in  a  moment. 

"  Yes.     How  you  hurried  after  me !  " 

Another  pause  followed,  Harry's  frown  giving  way 
to  a  smile,  but  a  perplexed  and  reluctant  one.  Cecily 
watched  him  with  puzzled  interest — still  sitting  with 
her  foot  stuck  out  in  front  of  her  and  her  head  resting 

[141] 


Tristram   of  Blent 

on  the  bend  of  her  arm ;  her  eyes  looked  upward,  and 
her  hps  were  just  parted. 

"Have  I  been  staring  at  you?"  he  inquired  ab- 
ruptly. 

"  Well,  yes,  you  have,"  she  answered,  laughing. 
"  But  a  strange  cousin  expects  to  be  examined  rather 
carefully.  Do  I  pass  muster  among  the  Tristrams? 
Or  am  I  all  the  hated  Gainsborough  ?  " 

He  looked  at  her  again  and  earnestly.  She  met  the 
look  without  lowering  her  eyes  or  altering  her  posi- 
tion in  any  particular. 

"  It's  too  absurd !  "  he  declared,  half  fretful,  half 
amused.  "  You're  features  aren't  so  very  much  alike 
— except  the  eyes,  they  are — and  your  hair's  darker. 
But  you  move  and  carry  yourself  and  turn  your  head 
as  she  did.  And  that  position  you're  in  now — why 
I've  seen  her  in  it  a  thousand  times !  Your  arm  there 
and  your  foot  stuck  out " 

His  voice  grew  louder  as  he  went  on,  his  petulant 
amusement  giving  way  to  an  agitation  imperfectly 
suppressed. 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  "  she  asked,  catching  excite- 
ment from  him. 

"  Why,  my  mother.  That's  her  attitude,  and  your 
walk's  her  walk,  and  your  voice  her  voice.  You're 
her — all  over !  Why,  when  I  saw  you  by  the  Pool  just 
now,  a  hundred  yards  off,  strolling  on  the  bank " 

"Yes?"  she  half-whispered.  "You  started,  didn't 
you?" 

"  Yes,  I  started.  I  thought  for  a  moment  I  saw  my 
mother's  ghost.  I  thought  my  mother  had  come  back 
to  Blent.     And  it  is — you  !  " 

He  threw  out  his  hands  in  a  gesture  of  what  seemed 
despair. 


[142] 


XII 

Fighters    and    Doubters 

MISS  S.  wasn't  so  far  wrong  after  all !  "  ex- 
claimed Mina  Zabriska,  flinging  down  a 
letter  on  the  table  by  her. 
It  was  three  days  after  Addie  Tristram's  funeral. 
Mina  had  attended  that  ceremony,  or  rather  watched  it 
from  a  little  way  ofif.  She  had  seen  Gainsborough's 
spare  humble  figure,  she  had  seen  too,  with  an  acute 
interest,  the  tall  slim  girl  all  in  black,  heavily  veiled, 
who  walked  beside  him,  just  behind  the  new  Lord 
Tristram.  She  had  also,  of  course,  seen  all  the  neigh- 
bors who  were  looking  on  like  herself,  but  who  gave 
their  best  attention  to  Janie  Iver  and  disappointed 
Miss  S.  by  asking  hardly  any  questions  about  the 
Gainsboroughs.  Little  indeed  would  have  been  said 
concerning  them  except  for  the  fact  that  Gains- 
borough (true  to  his  knack  of  the  unlucky)  caught  a 
chill  on  the  occasion  and  was  confined  to  his  bed  down 
at  Blent.  A  most  vexatious  occurrence  for  Lord  Tris- 
tram, said  Miss  S.  But  one  that  he  ought  to  bear 
patiently,  added  Mrs  Trumbler.  And  after  all,  both 
ladies  agreed,  it  would  have  been  hardly  decent  to  turn 
the  Gainsboroughs  out  on  Monday,  as  it  was  well 
known  the  new  lord  had  proposed. 

But  the  Gainsboroughs  were  not  in  Mina's 
thoughts  just  now. 

"  Nothing  is  to  be  made  public  yet — please  remem- 
ber this.  But  I  want  you  to  know  that  I  have  just 
written  to  Harry  Tristram  to  say  I  will  marry  him.    I 

[143] 


Tristram  of  Blent 

have  had  a  great  deal  of  trouble,  dear  Mina,  but  I 
think  I  have  done  right,  looking  at  it  all  round.  Except 
my  own  people  I  am  telling  only  one  friend  besides 
you  ('  Bob  Broadley!'  said  Mina  with  a  nod,  as  she 
read  the  letter  the  second  time).  But  I  want  you  to 
know ;  and  please  tell  your  uncle  too.  I  hope  you  will 
both  give  me  your  good  wishes.  I  do  think  I'm  acting 
wisely;  and  I  thought  I  had  no  right  to  keep  him 
waiting  and  worrying  about  this  when  he  has  so  much 
to  think  of  besides.  You  must  stay  at  Merrion  after  I 
come  to  Blent. — Janie." 

Barring  the  matter  of  the  immediate  announcement 
then,  Miss  S.  was  justified.  Janie  had  done  the 
obviously  right  thing — and  was  obviously  not  quite 
sure  that  it  was  right.  That  mattered  very  little ;  it 
was  done.  It  was  for  Mina  Zabriska — and  others  con- 
cerned— to  adapt  themselves  and  conform  their  actions 
to  the  accomplished  fact.  But  would  Major  Duplay 
take  that  view?  To  Mina  was  intrusted  the  delicate 
task  of  breaking  the  news  to  her  uncle.  It  is  the  virtue 
of  a  soldier  not  to  know  when  he  is  beaten ;  of  a  gen- 
eral not  to  let  others  know.  To  what  standard  of  mar- 
tial conduct  would  the  Major  adhere  ?  This  matter  of 
the  Major  was  in  every  way  a  nuisance  to  his  niece. 
In  the  first  place  she  wanted  to  think  about  herself  and 
her  own  feelings— the  one  luxury  of  the  unhappy. 
Secondly  she  was  afraid  again.  For  Harry  suddenly 
seemed  to  be  no  protection  now,  and  the  horrors 
threatened  by  Duplay— the  interrogation,  the  lawyer's 
office,  and  the  like— recovered  their  dreadfulness.  It 
had  been  easy — perhaps  pleasant — to  suffer  for  the 
confidential  friend  who  had  opened  his  heart  to  her  on 
the  hillside.  It  became  less  easy  and  certainly  more 
unpleasant  to  be  sacrificed  for  Janie  Iver's  Hancc.  But 
Mina,  though  no  longer  exultant  and  no  more  fearless, 

[144] 


Fighters  and  Doubters 

would  be  loyal  and  constant  all  the  same.  Should  she, 
after  saving  others,  be  herself  a  castaway?  She  ex- 
perienced a  longing  for  the  sympathy  and  support  of 
Mr  Jenkinson  Neeld.  Surely  he  would  stand  firm 
too?  He  was  still  at  Fairholme,  Was  he  included  in 
Janie's  "  own  people  "?    Had  he  been  told  the  news? 

The  delicate  task !  The  Imp's  temper  was  far  too 
bad  for  delicacy ;  she  found  a  positive  pleasure  in  out- 
raging it.  She  took  her  letter,  marched  into  the 
smoking-room,  and  threw  it  to  (not  to  say  at)  her 
uncle. 

"  Read  that !  "  she  said  and  strode  ofif  to  the  window 
to  have  a  look  at  Blent.  The  letter  had  succeeded,  it 
seemed,  in  taking  away  from  her  life  all  she  wanted, 
and  introducing  into  it  all  she  did  not. 

"  This  is  very  serious,"  declared  the  Major  solemn- 
ly, "  very  serious  indeed,  Mina." 

"  Don't  see  how,"  snapped  the  Imp,  presenting  an 
unwavering  back-view  to  her  uncle.  "  If  they  like  to 
get  married,  why  is  it  serious  ?  " 

"  Pray  be  reasonable,"  he  urged.  "  You  must  per- 
ceive that  the  situation  I  have  always  contem- 
plated  " 

"  Well,  you  can  go  on  contemplating  it,  can't  you, 
uncle?     It  won't  do  much  good,  but  still " 

"  The  situation,  I  say,  has  arisen."  She  heard  him 
get  up,  walk  to  the  hearth-rug,  and  strike  a  match.  Of 
course  he  was  going  to  have  a  cigarette !  He  would 
smoke  it  all  through  with  exasperating  slowness  and 
then  arrive  at  an  odious  conclusion.  Mina  had  not  been 
married  for  nothing;  she  knew  men's  ways.  He  justi- 
fied her  forecast ;  it  was  minutes  before  he  spoke  again. 

"  The  terms  of  this  letter,"  he  resumed  at  last,  "  for- 
tify me  in  my  purpose.  It  is  evident  that  Miss 
Tver  is  influenced — largely  influenced — by — cr — the 
supposed  position  of — er — Mr  Tristram." 

[145] 


Tristram   of  Blent 

-Of  who?" 

"  Of  the  present  possessor  of  Blent." 

"  If  you  want  people  to  know  who  you  mean, 
you'd  better  say  Lord  Tristram." 

"  For  the  present,  if  you  wish  it.    I  say,  she  is " 

Duplay's  pompous  formality  suddenly  broke  down. 
"  She's  taking  him  for  his  title,  that's  all." 

"  Oh,  if  you  choose  to  say  things  like  that  about 
your  friends !  " 

"  You  know  it's  true.  What  becomes  my  duty 
then?" 

"  I  don't  know  and  I  don't  care.    Only  I  hate  people 

to  talk  about  duty  when  they're  going  to "    Well, 

one  must  stop  somewhere  in  describing  one's  relatives' 
conduct.  The  Imp  stopped  there.  But  the  sentence 
really  lost  nothing;  Duplay  could  guess  pretty  accu- 
rately what  she  had  been  going  to  say. 

Fortunately,  although  he  was  very  dependent  on 
her  help,  he  cared  little  about  her  opinion.  She  neither 
would  nor  could  judge  his  position  fairly;  she  would 
not  perceive  how  he  felt,  how  righteous  was  his  anger, 
how  his  friends  were  being  cheated  and  he  was  being 
jockeyed  out  of  his  chances  by  one  and  the  same  un- 
scrupulous bit  of  imposture.  He  had  brought  him- 
self round  to  a  more  settled  state  of  mind  and  had  got 
his  conscience  into  better  order.  If  he  were  acting  un- 
selfishly, he  deserved  commendation.  But  even  if  self- 
interest  guided  him  he  was  free  of  blame.  No  man  is 
bound  to  let  himself  be  swindled.  He  doubted  seri- 
ously of  nothing  now  except  his  power  to  upset  Harry 
Tristram's  plans.  He  was  resolved  to  try  ;  Mina  must 
speak — and  if  money  were  needed,  it  must  come  from 
somewhere.  The  mere  assertion  of  what  he  meant  to 
allege  must  at  least  delay  this  hateful  marriage.  It 
must  be  added — though  the  Major  was  careful  not  to 
add — that  it  would  also  give  Harry  Tristram  a  very 

[146] 


Fighters   and   Doubters 

unpleasant  shock ;  the  wrestHng  bout  by  the  Pool  and 
the  loss  of  that  shilling  were  not  forgotten.  It  may 
further  be  observed — though  the  Major  could  not  be 
expected  to  observe — that  he  had  such  an  estimate  of 
his  own  attractions  as  led  him  to  seize  very  eagerly  on 
any  evidences  of  liking  for  Harry's  position,  rather 
than  of  preference  for  Harry  himself,  which  Janie's  let- 
ter might  be  considered  to  afiford.  The  Major,  in  fact, 
had  a  case ;  good  argument  made  it  seem  a  good  case. 
It  is  something  to  have  a  case  that  can  be  argued  at 
all ;  morality  has  a  sad  habit  of  leaving  us  without  a 
leg  to  stand  on.  In  the  afternoon  of  that  day  Duplay 
went  down  to  Fairholme.  Miss  Swinkerton  passed 
him  on  the  road  and  smiled  sagaciously.  Oh,  if  Miss 
S.  had  known  the  truth  about  his  errand !  A  gossip  m 
ignorance  has  pathos  as  a  spectacle. 

Mr  Neeld  was  still  at  Fairholme;  he  had  been 
pressed  to  stay  and  needed  little  pressing;  in  fact,  in 
default  of  the  pressure  he  would  probably  have  taken 
lodgings  in  the  town.  He  could  not  go  away ;  he  had 
seen  Addie  Tristram  buried,  and  her  son  walking  be- 
hind the  coffin,  clad  in  his  new  dignity.  His  mind  was 
full  of  the  situation.  Yet  he  had  shrunk  from  dis- 
cussing it  further  with  Mina  Zabriska.  The  family 
anxiety  about  Janie's  love  affair  had  been  all  round 
him.  Now  he  suspected  strongly  that  some  issue  was 
being  decided  upon.  He  ought  to  speak,  to  break  his 
word  to  Mina  and  speak — or  he  ought  to  go.  From 
day  to  day  he  meant  to  go  and  cease  to  accept  the 
hospitality  which  his  silence  seemed  to  abuse.  But  he 
did  not  go.  These  internal  struggles  were  new  in  his 
placid  and  estimable  life ;  this  affair  of  Harry  Tris- 
tram's had  a  way  of  putting  people  in  strange  and  dif- 
ficult positions. 

"  Mind  you  say  nothing — nothing — nothing."  That 
sentence  had  reached  him  on  the  reverse  side  of  an 

[147] 


Tristram  ^  Blent 

invitation  to  take  tea  at  Merrion — a  vague  some-day- 
when-you're-passing-  sort  of  invitation,  in  Neeld's  eyes 
plainly  and  merely  a  pretext  for  writing  and  an  oppor- 
tunity of  conveying  the  urgent  little  scrawl  on  the 
other  side.  It  arrived  at  mid-day;  in  the  afternoon 
Duplay  had  come  and  was  now  alone  with  Iver. 

The  outward  calm  of  the  gray-haired  old  gentleman 
who  sat  on  the  lawn  at  Fairholme,  holding  a  weekly 
review  upside  down,  was  no  index  to  the  alarming  and 
disturbing  questions  which  were  agitating  him  within. 
At  the  end  of  a  blameless  life  it  is  hard  to  discover  that 
you  must  do  one  of  two  things  and  that,  whichever 
you  do,  you  will  feel  like  a  villain.  The  news  that 
Josiah  Cholderton's  Journal  was  going  o&  very  fairly 
well  with  the  trade  had  been  unable  to  give  its  editor 
any  consolation ;  he  did  not  care  about  the  Journal 
now. 

Iver  came  out  and  sat  down  beside  him  without 
speaking.  Neeld  hastily  restored  his  paper  to  a  posi- 
tion more  befitting  its  dignity  and  became  apparently 
absorbed  in  an  article  on  Shyness  in  Elephants;  the 
subject  was  treated  with  a  wealth  of  illustration  and 
in  a  vein  of  introspective  philosophy  exceedingly  in- 
structive. But  it  was  all  wasted  on  Mr  Neeld.  He 
was  waiting  for  Iver ;  no  man  could  be  so  silent  un- 
less he  had  something  important  to  say  or  to  leave 
unsaid.  And  Iver  was  not  even  smoking  the  cigar 
which  he  always  smoked  after  tea.  Neeld  could 
bear  it  no  longer ;  he  got  up  and  was  about  to  move 
away. 

"  Stop,  Neeld.  Do  you  mind  sitting  down  again  for 
a  moment?  " 

Neeld  could  do  nothing  but  comply.  The  review 
fell  on  the  ground  by  him  and  he  ceased  to  struggle 
with  the  elephants. 

"  I  want  to  ask  your  opinion " 

[148] 


Fighters   and   Doubters 

"My  dear  Iver,  my  opinion!  Oh,  I'm  not  a  busi- 
ness man,  and " 

"  It's  not  business.  You  know  Major  Duplay  ? 
What  do  you  think  of  him  ?  " 

"  I — I've  always  found  him  very  agreeable." 

"  Yes,  so  have  I.  And  I've  always  thought  him 
honest,  haven't  you  ?  " 

Neeld  admitted  that  he  had  no  reason  to  impugn 
the  Major's  character. 

"  And  I  suppose  he's  sane,"  Iver  pursued.  "  But 
he's  just  been  telling  me  the  most  extraordinary 
thing."  He  paused  a  moment.  "  I  dare  say  you've 
noticed  something  between  Janie  and  young  Tris- 
tram? I  may  as  well  tell  you  that  she  has  just  con- 
sented to  marry  him.  But  I  don't  want  to  talk  about 
that  except  so  far  as  it  comes  into  the  other  matter — 
which  it  does  very  considerably."  He  laid  his  hand 
on  Neeld's  knee.  "  Neeld,  Duplay  came  and  told  me 
that  Harry  Tristram  has  no  title  to  the  peerage  or  to 
Blent.  I'm  not  going  to  trouble  you  with  the  details 
now.  It  comes  to  this — Harry  was  born  before,  not 
after,  the  marriage  of  his  parents.  Duplay  says  Mina 
knows  all  about  it,  and  will  give  us  information  that 
will  make  the  proof  easy.  That's  a  tolerably  startling 
story,  eh  ?  One's  prepared  for  something  where 
Lady  Tristram  was  involved,  but  this !  " 

It  was  fortunate  that  he  did  not  glance  at  Neeld  ; 
Neeld  had  tried  to  appear  startled,  but  had  succeeded 
only  in  looking  supremely  miserable.  But  Iver's  eyes 
were  gazing  straight  in  front  of  him  under  brows  that 
frowned  heavily. 

"  Now,  what  I  want  you  to  do,"  he  resumed,  "  and 
I'm  sure  you  won't  refuse  me,  is  this.  I'm  inclined  to 
dismiss  the  whole  thing  as  a  blunder.  I  believe  Du- 
play's  honest,  but  I  think  certain  facts  in  his  own  posi- 
tion have  led  him  to  be  too  ready  to  believe  a  mere 

[149] 


Tristram   oJ  B  lent 

yarn.  But  I've  consented  to  see  Mina  and  hear  what 
she  has  to  say.  And  I  said  I  should  bring  you  as  a 
witness.  I  go  to  Alerrion  Lodge  to-morrow  for  this 
purpose,  and  I  shall  rely  on  you  to  accompany  me." 
With  that  the  cigar  made  its  appearance ;  Iver  lit  it 
and  lay  back  in  his  chair,  frowning  still  in  perplexity 
and  vexation.  He  had  not  asked  his  friend's  opinion 
but  his  services.  It  was  characteristic  of  him  not  to 
notice  this  fact.  And  the  fact  did  nothing  to  relieve 
Neeld's  piteous  embarrassment. 

"  I  knew  it  all  along; "  he  might  say  that.  "  1  know 
nothing  about  it ;  "  he  might  act  that.  Or  he  might 
temporize  for  a  little  while.    This  was  what  he  did. 

"  It  would  make  a  great  difference  if  this  were 
true?"     His  voice  shook,  but  Iver  was  absorbed. 

"  An  enormous  difference,"  said  Iver  (Lady  Tris- 
tram herself  had  once  said  the  same).  "  I  marry  my 
daughter  to  Lord  Tristram  of  Blent  or  to — to  whom  ? 
You'll  call  that  snobbishness,  or  some  people  would. 
I  say  it's  not  snobbish  in  us  new  men  to  consider  that. 
It's  the  right  thing  for  us  to  do,  Neeld.  Other  things 
equal — if  the  man's  a  decent  fellow  and  the  girl  likes 
him — I  say  it's  the  right  thing  for  us  to  do.  That's 
the  way  it  always  has  happened,  and  the  right  way 
too." 

Mr  Neeld  nodded.  He  had  sympathy  with  these 
opinions. 

"  But  if  it's  true,  why,  who's  Harry  Tristram?  Oh, 
I  know  it's  all  a  fluke,  a  damned  fluke,  if  you  like, 
Neeld,  and  uncommonly  hard  on  the  boy.  But  the 
law's  the  law,  and  for  my  own  part  I'm  not  in  favor  of 
altering  it.  Now  do  you  suppose  I  want  my  daughter 
to  marry  him,  if  it's  true?  " 

"  I  suppose  you  wouldn't,"  murmured  Neeld. 

"  And  there's  another  thing.  Duplay  says  Harry 
knows  it — Duplay  swears  he  knows  it.     Well  then, 

[150] 


Fighters  and   Doubters 

what's  he  doing?  In  my  opinion  he's  practising  a 
fraud.  He  knows  he  isn't  what  he  pretends  to  be.  He 
deceives  me,  he  deceives  Janie.  If  the  thing  ever 
comes  out,  where  is  she?  He's  treated  us  very  badly 
if  it's  true." 

The  man,  ordinarily  so  calm  and  quiet  in  his  re- 
served strength,  broke  out  into  vehemence  as  he 
talked  of  what  Harry  Tristram  had  done  if  the  Major's 
tale  were  true.  Neeld  asked  himself  what  his  host 
would  say  of  a  friend  who  knew  the  story  to  be  true  and 
yet  said  nothing  of  it.  He  perceived  too  that  although 
Tver  would  not  have  forced  his  daughter's  inclina- 
tion, yet  the  marriage  was  very  good  in  his  eyes,  the 
proper  end  and  the  finest  crown  to  his  own  career. 
This  had  never  come  home  to  Neeld  with  any  special 
force  before.  Iver  was  English  of  the  English  in  his 
repression,  in  his  habit  of  meeting  both  good  and  bad 
luck  with — well,  with  something  like  a  grunt.  But  he 
was  stirred  now ;  the  suddenness  of  the  thing  had  done 
it.  And  in  face  of  his  feelings  how  stood  Mr  Neeld? 
He  saw  nothing  admirable  in  how  and  where  he  stood. 

"  Well,  we'll  see  Mina  and  hear  if  she's  got  anything 
to  say.  Fancy  that  little  monkey  being  drawn  into 
a  thing  like  this !  Meanwhile  we'll  say  nothing.  I 
don't  believe  it,  and  I  shall  want  a  lot  of  convincing. 
Until  I  am  convinced  everything  stands  as  it  did.  I 
rely  on  you  for  that,  Neeld — and  I  rely  on  you  to  come 
to  Merrion  to-morrow.  Not  a  word  to  my  wife — 
above  all  not  a  word  to  Janie !  "  He  got  up,  took  pos- 
session of  Neeld's  review,  and  walked  off  into  the 
house  with  his  business-like  quick  stride. 

Neeld  sat  there,  slowly  rubbing  his  hands  against 
one  another  between  his  knees.  He  was  realizing 
what  he  had  done,  or  rather  what  had  happened  to 
him.  When  his  life,  his  years,  and  what  he  con- 
ceived to  be  his  character  were  considered,  it  was  a 

[151] 


Tristram  ^  Blent 

very  surprising  thing,  this  silence  of  his — the  conspii- 
acy  he  had  entered  into  with  Mina  Zabriska,  the  view 
of  duty  which  the  Imp,  or  Harry,  or  the  thought  of 
beautiful  Addie  Tristram,  or  all  of  them  together,  had 
made  him  take.  So  strange  a  view  for  him !  To  run 
counter  to  law,  to  outrage  good  sense,  to  slight  the 
claims  cf  friendship,  to  suppress  the  truth,  to  aid  what 
Iver  so  relentlessly  called  a  fraud — all  these  were 
strange  doings  for  him  to  be  engaged  in.  And  why 
had  he  done  it  ?  The  explanation  was  as  strange  as  the 
things  that  he  invoked  it  to  explain.  Still  rubbing  his 
hands,  palm  against  palm,  to  and  fro,  he  said  very 
slowly,  with  wonder  and  reluctance : 

"  I  was  carried  away.     I  was  carried  away  by — by 


romance." 


The  word  made  him  feel  a  fool.  Yet  what  other 
word  was  there  for  the  overwhelming  unreasoning 
feeling  that  at  the  cost  of  everything  the  Tristrams, 
mother  and  son,  must  keep  Blent,  the  son  living  and 
the  mother  dead,  that  the  son  must  dwell  there  and  the 
spirit  of  the  mother  be  about  him  she  loved  in  the  spot 
that  she  had  graced  ?  It  was  very  rank  romance  in- 
deed— no  other  word  for  it !  And — wildest  paradox — 
it  all  came  out  of  editing  Josiah  Cholderton's  Journal. 

Before  he  had  made  any  progress  in  unravelling  his 
skein  of  perplexities  he  saw  Janie  coming  across  the 
lawn.  She  took  the  chair  her  father  had  left  and 
seemed  to  take  her  father's  mood  with  it ;  the  same 
oppressive  silence  settled  on  her.  Neeld  broke  it  this 
time. 

"  You  don't  look  very  merry,  Miss  Janie,"  he  said, 
smiling  at  her  and  achieving  a  plausible  jocularity. 

"  Why  should  I,  Mr  Neeld?  "  She  glanced  at  him. 
"  Oh,  has  father  told  you  anything?" 

"  Yes,  that  you're  engaged.  You  know  how  truly  I 
desire    your    happiness,    my    dear."      With    a    pretty 

[152] 


Fighters  and   Doubters 

courtesy  the  old  man  took  her  hand  and  kissed  it,  bar- 
ing his  gray  hair  the  while. 

"  You're  very,  very  kind.  Yes,  I've  promised  to 
marry  Harry  Tristram.  Not  yet,  you  know.  And  it 
isn't  to  be  announced.    But  I've  promised." 

He  stole  a  glance  at  her,  and  then  another.  She  did 
not  look  merry  indeed.  Neeld  knew  his  ignorance  of 
feminine  things,  and  made  guesses  with  proper  diffi- 
dence ;  but  he  certainly  fancied  she  had  been  crying — 
or  very  near  it — not  so  long  ago.  Yet  the  daughter  of 
William  Iver  was  sensible  and  not  given  to  silly  tears. 

"  I  think  I've  done  right,"  she  said — as  she  had  said 
when  she  wrote  to  Mina.  "  Everybody  will  be 
pleased.  Father's  very  pleased."  Suddenly  she  put 
out  her  hand  and  took  hold  of  his,  giving  it  a  tight 
grip.  "  Oh,  but,  Mr  Neeld,  I've  made  somebody  so 
unhappy." 

"I  dare  say,  my  dear,  I  dare  say.  I  was  a  young  fel- 
low once.     I  dare  say." 

"  And  he  says  nothing  about  it.  He  wished  me  joy 
— and  he  does  wish  me  joy  too.  I've  no  right  to  talk 
to  you,  to  tell  you,  or  anything.  I  don't  believe  people 
think  girls  ever  mind  making  men  unhappy ;  but  they 
do."     • 

"  If  they  like  the  men  ?  "  This  suggestion  at  least 
was  not  too  difficult  for  him. 

"  Yes,  when  they  like  them,  when  they're  old 
friends,  you  know.  I  only  spoke  to  him  for  a  moment, 
I  only  just  met  him  on  the  road.  I  don't  suppose  I 
shall  ever  talk  to  him  about  it,  or  about  anything  in 
particular,  again."  She  squeezed  Neeld's  hand  a  sec- 
ond time,  and  then  withdrew  her  own. 

This  was  unknown  country  again  for  Mr  Neeld ;  his 
sense  of  being  lost  grew  more  acute.  These  were  not 
the  sort  of  problems  which  had  occupied  his  life ;  but 
they  seemed  now  to  him  no  less  real,  hardly  less  im- 

[153] 


Tristram  of  Blent 

portant.  It  was  only  a  girl  wondering  if  she  had  done 
right.    Yet  he  felt  the  importance  of  it. 

'*  You  can't  help  the  unhappiness,"  he  said.  "  You 
must  go  to  the  man  you  love,  my  dear." 

With  a  little  start  she  turned  and  looked  at  him  for 
an  instant.  Then  she  murmured  in  a  perfunctory 
fashion : 

"  Yes,  I  must  make  the  best  choice  I  can,  of  course." 
She  added  after  a  pause,  "  But  I  wish " 

Words  or  the  inclination  to  speak  failed  her  again, 
and  she  relapsed  into  silence. 

As  he  sat  there  beside  her,  silent  too,  his  mind 
travelled  back  to  what  her  father  had  said  ;  and  slowly 
he  began  to  understand.  No  doubt  she  liked  Harry, 
even  as  her  father  did.  No  doubt  she  thought  he 
would  be  a  good  husband,  as  Iver  had  thought  him  a 
good  fellow.  But  it  became  plain  to  the  searcher  after 
truth  that  not  to  her  any  more  than  to  her  father  was 
it  nothing  that  Harry  was  Tristram  of  Blent.  Her 
phrases  about  doing  right  and  making  the  right  choice 
included  a  reference  to  that,  even  if  that  were  not  their 
whole  meaning.  She  had  mentioned  her  father's 
pleasure — everybody's  pleasure.  That  pleasure  would 
be  found  largely  in  seeing  her  Lady  Tristram.  What 
then  would  she  have  to  say  on  the  question  that  so 
perplexed  Mr  Neeld  ?  Would  she  not  echo  Iver's  ac- 
cusation of  fraud  against  Harry  Tristram  and  (as  a 
consequence)  against  those  who  aided  and  abetted 
him?  Would  she  understand  or  accept  as  an  excuse 
the  plea  that  Neeld  had  been  led  away  by  romance  or 
entrapped  into  a  conspiracy  by  Mina  Zabriska?  No. 
She  too  would  call  out  "  Fraud,  fraud !  "  and  he  did 
not  blame  her.  He  called  himself  a  fool  for  having 
been  led  away  by  romance,  by  unreasoning  feeling. 
Should  he  blame  her  because  she  was  not  led  away  ? 
His  disposition  was  to  praise  her  for  a  choice  so  wise, 

[154] 


Fighters   and   Doubters 

and  to  think  that  she  had  done  very  right  in  accept- 
ing Lord  Tristram  of  Blent.  Aye,  Lord  Tristram  of 
Blent !  Precisely !  Deep  despair  settled  on  Mr 
Neeld's  baffled  mind. 

Meanwhile,  Duplay  walked  home,  the  happier  for 
having  crossed  his  Rubicon.  He  had  opened  his  cam- 
paign with  all  the  success  he  could  have  expected. 
Like  a  wise  man,  Iver  held  nothing  true  till  it  was 
proved ;  but  like  a  wise  man  also  he  dubbed  nothing  a 
lie  merely  because  it  was  new  or  improbable.  And  on 
the  whole  he  had  done  the  Major  justice.  He  had 
smiled  for  a  moment  when  he  hinted  that  Duplay  and 
Harry  were  not  very  cordial ;  the  Major  met  him  by 
a  straightforward  recognition  that  this  was  true,  and 
by  an  indirect  admission  of  the  reason.  As  to  this  lat- 
ter Iver  had  dropped  no  word ;  but  he  would  give 
Duplay  a  hearing.  Now  it  remained  only  to  bring 
Mina  to  reason.  If  she  spoke,  the  case  would  be  so 
strong  as  to  demand  inquiry.  The  relief  in  Duplay 's 
mind  was  so  great  that  he  could  not  explain  it,  until 
he  realized  that  his  niece's  way  of  treating  him  had 
so  stuck  in  his  memory  that  he  had  been  prepared  to 
be  turned  from  Ivor's  doors  with  contumely.  Such  an 
idea  seemed  absurd  now,  and  the  Major  laughed. 

Mina  was  strange,  Duplay  never  ceased  to  think 
that.  They  had  parted  on  impossible  terms  ;  but  now, 
as  soon  as  he  a])i:»carefl,  she  ran  at  him  with  ap- 
parent pleasure  and  with  the  utmost  eagerness.  She 
asked  nothing  about  his  expedition  either,  though  she 
could  easily  have  guessed  where  he  had  been  and  for 
what  purpose.    She  almost  danced  as  she  cried : 

"  I've  seen  her!  I've  been  talking  to  her!  I  met 
her  in  the  meadow  near  Matson's  cottage,  and  she 
asked  me  the  way  back  to  Blent.  Uncle,  she's  won- 
derhil !  " 

"  Who  are  you  talking  about?  " 

[155] 


Tristram   ^Blent 

"  Why,  Cecily  Gainsborough,  of  course.  I  just  re- 
member how  Lady  Tristram  spoke.  She  speaks  tht 
same  way  exactly !  I  can't  describe  it,  but  it's  the  sort 
of  voice  that  makes  you  want  to  do  anything  in  the 
world  it  asks.  Don't  you  know?  She  told  me  a  lot 
about  herself ;  then  she  talked  about  Blent.    She's  full 

of  it ;   she  admires  it  most  tremendously " 

That's  all  right,"  interrupted  Duplay  with  a  mali- 
cious smile.  "  Because,  so  far  as  I  can  understand, 
she  happens  to  own  it." 

"  What  ?  "    The  Imp  stood  frozen  into  stillness. 

"  You've  been  talking  to  Lady  Tristram  of  Blent," 
he  added  with  a  nod.  "  Though  I  suppose  you  didn't 
tell  her  so?" 

To  Lady  Tristram  of  Blent!  She  had  never  once 
thought  of  that  while  they  talked.  The  shock  of  the 
idea  was  great,  so  great  that  Mina  forgot  to  repudiate 
it,  or  to  show  any  indignation  at  Harry's  claims  being 
passed  by  in  contemptuous  silence.  All  the  while  they 
talked,  she  had  thought  of  the  girl  as  far  removed  from 
Blent,  as  even  more  of  a  visitor  to  the  countryside 
than  she  herself  was,  a  wonderful  visitor  indeed,  but 
no  part  of  their  life.  And  she  was — well,  at  the  least 
she  was  heir  to  Blent!  How  had  she  forgotten  that? 
The  persistent  triumph  of  Duplay's  smile  marked  his 
sense  of  the  success  of  his  sally. 

"  Yes,  and  she'll  be  installed  there  before  many 
months  are  out,"  he  went  on.  "  So  I  hope  you  made 
yourself  pleasant,  Mina?  " 

Mina  gave  him  one  scornful  glance,  as  she  passed 
by  him  and  ran  out  on  to  her  favorite  terrace.  There 
was  a  new  thing  to  look  and  to  wonder  at  in  Blent. 
The  interest,  the  sense  of  concern  in  Blent  and  its 
affairs,  which  the  news  of  the  engagement  had  blunted 
and  almost  destroyed,  revived  in  her  now.  She  forgot 
the  prose  of  that  marriage  arrangement  and  turned 
eagerly  to  the  poetry  of  Cecily  Gainsborough,  of  the 

[156] 


Fighters   and  Doubters 

poor  girl  there  in  the  house  that  was  hers,  unwitting 
guest  of  the  man  who  was The  Imp  stopped  her- 
self with  rude  abruptness.  What  had  she  been  about 
to  say,  what  had  she  been  about  to  think  ?  The  guest 
of  the  man  who  was  robbing  her?  That  had  been  it. 
But  no,  no,  no !  She  did  not  think  that.  Confused  in 
her  mind  by  this  new  idea,  none  the  less  she  found 
her  sympathy  going  out  to  Harry  again.  He  was  not 
a  robber ;  it  was  his  own.  The  blood,  she  cried  still, 
and  not  the  law.  But  what  was  to  be  done  about  Cecily 
Gainsborough  ?  Was  she  to  go  back  to  the  little  house 
in  London,  was  she  to  go  back  to  ugliness,  to  work,  to 
short  commons?  There  seemed  no  way  out.  Be- 
tween the  old  and  the  new  attraction,  the  old  allegiance 
and  the  new  claim  to  homage  that  Cecily  made,  Alina 
Zabriska  stood  bewildered.  She  had  a  taste  now  of 
the  same  perplexity  that  she  had  done  so  much  to 
bring  on  poor  Mr  Neeld  at  Fairholme.  Yet  not  quite 
the  same.  He  did  not  know  what  he  ought  to  do ; 
she  did  not  feel  sure  of  what  she  wanted.  Both  stood 
undecided.  Mr  Cholderton's  Journal  was  still  at  its 
work  of  disturbing  people's  minds. 

But  Major  Duplay  was  well  content  with  the  day's 
work.  If  his  niece  had  a  divided  mind  she  would  be 
easier  to  bend  to  his  will.  He  did  not  care  who  had 
Blent,  if  only  it  passed  from  Harry.  But  it  was  a  point 
gained  if  Mina  could  think  of  its  passing  from  Harry 
to  somebody  who  would  be  welcome  to  lier  there. 
Then  she  would  tell  the  story  which  she  had  received 
from  her  mother,  and  the  first  battle  against  Harry 
Tristram  would  be  won.  The  excitement  of  fighting 
was  on  the  Major  now.  He  could  neither  pity  the 
enemy  nor  distrust  his  own  cause  till  the  strife  was 
done. 

Amongst  all  the  indecision  there  was  about,  Duplay 
had  the  merit  of  a  clear  vision  of  his  own  purpose  and 
his  own  desires. 

[157] 


T 


XIII 

In  the  Long  Gallery 

f  R  ^HE  man  with  whom  the  fighters  and  the 
doubters  were  concerned,  in  whose  defence  or 
attack  efforts  and  hopes  were  enUsted,  round 
whom  hesitation  and  struggles  gathered,  was  thinking 
very  Httle  about  his  champions  or  his  enemies.  No 
fresh  whispers  of  danger  had  come  to  Harry  Tris- 
tram's ears.  He  knew  nothing  of  Neeld  and  could 
not  think  of  that  quiet  old  gentleman  as  a  possible 
menace  to  his  secret.  He  trusted  Mina  Zabriska  and 
relied  on  the  influence  which  he  had  proved  himself  to 
possess  over  her.  He  did  not  believe  that  Duplay 
would  stick  to  his  game,  and  was  not  afraid  of  him  if 
he  did.  The  engagement  was  accomplished ;  the  big 
check,  or  the  prospect  of  it,  lay  ready  to  his  hand ;  his 
formal  proofs,  perfect  so  long  as  they  were  unassailed, 
awaited  the  hour  when  formal  proofs  would  be  re- 
quired. To  all  appearance  he  was  secure  in  his  in- 
heritance and  buttressed  against  any  peril.  No  voice 
was  raised,  no  murmur  was  heard,  to  impugn  the  right 
of  the  new  Lord  Tristram  of  Blent.  The  object  of  all 
those  long  preparations,  which  had  occupied  his 
mother  and  himself  for  so  many  years,  was  achieved. 
He  sat  in  Addie  Tristram's  place,  and  none  said  him 
nay. 

His  mind  was  not  much  on  these  matters  at  all. 
Even  his  engagement  occupied  him  very  little.  Janie's 
letter  had  arrived  and  had  been  read.  It  came  at  mid- 
dav,  and  the  evening  found  it  still  unacknowledged. 

[158] 


In  the   Long  Gallery 

It  had  broken  in  from  outside  as  it  were,  intruding  like 
something  foreign  into  the  Hfe  that  he  had  begun  to 
Hve  on  the  evening  before  Addie  Tristram  was  buried, 
the  evening  when  for  an  instant  he  had  thought  he 
saw  her  phantom  by  the  Pool ;  a  life  foreshadowed  by 
the  new  mood  which  Mina  had  noticed  in  him  while 
Lady  Tristram  still  lived,  but  brought  into  reality  by 
the  presence  of  another.  It  seemed  a  new  life  com- 
ing to  one  who  was  almost  a  new  man,  so  much  of  the 
unexpected  in  him  did  it  reveal  to  himself.  He  had 
struggled  against  it,  saying  that  the  Monday  morn- 
ing would  see  an  end  of  this  unlooked-for  episode  of 
feeling  and  of  companionship.  Accident  stepped  in ; 
Gainsborough  lay  in  bed  with  a  chill  and  could  not 
move.  Harry  acquiesced  in  the  necessity  of  his  re- 
maining, not  exactly  with  pleasure,  rather  with  a  sense 
that  something  had  begun  to  happen,  not  by  his  will, 
but  afifecting  him  deeply.  What  would  come  of  it  he 
did  not  know  ;  that  it  would  end  in  a  day  or  two,  that 
it  would  be  only  an  episode  and  leave  no  permanent 
mark  seemed  now  almost  impossible ;  it  was  fraught 
with  something  bigger  than  that. 

But  with  what  ?  He  had  no  reasoned  idea  ;  he  was 
unable  to  reason.  He  was  passive  in  the  hands  of  the 
feelings,  the  impressions,  the  fancies  that  laid  hold  of 
him.  Addie  Tristram's  death  had  moved  him  strange- 
ly ;  then  came  that  hardly  natural,  eerily  fascinating 
reminiscence — no,  it  was  more  than  that — that  re- 
embodiment  or  resurrection  of  her  in  the  girl  who 
moved  and  talked  and  sat  like  her,  who  had  her  ways 
though  not  her  face,  her  eyes  set  in  another  frame,  her 
voice  renewed  in  youthful  richness,  the  very  turns  of 
her  head,  even  her  old  trick  of  sticking  out  her  foot. 
He  scowled  sometimes,  he  was  surprised  into  laughter 
sometimes  ;  at  another  moment  he  would  rebel  against 
the  malicious  Power  that  seemed  to  be  having  a  joke 

[159] 


Tristram   ^Blent 

with  him ;  for  the  most  part  he  looked,  and  looked, 
and  looked,  unwilling  to  miss  a  single  one  of  the  char- 
acteristic touches  which  had  been  Addie  Tristram's 
belongings  and  which  he  had  never  expected  to  see 
again  after  her  spirit  had  passed  away.  And  the  out- 
come of  all  his  looking  was  still  the  same  as  the  effect 
of  his  first  impression  on  the  evening  before  the  funeral 
— a  sort  of  despair.  A  thing  was  there  which  he  did 
not  know  how  to  deal  with. 

And  she  was  so  happy,  so  absurdly  happy.  She 
had  soon  found  that  he  expected  no  conventional 
solemnity;  he  laughed  himself  at  the  idea  of  Addie 
Tristram  wanting  people  to  pull  long  faces,  and  keep 
them  long  when  pulled,  because  she  had  laid  her  bur- 
den down  and  was  at  peace.  Cecily  found  she  might 
be  merry,  and  merry  she  was.  A  new  life  had  come 
to  her  too,  a  life  of  river  and  trees  and  meadows ; 
deeper  than  that,  a  life  of  beauty  about  her.  She  ab- 
sorbed it  with  a  native  thirst.  There  was  plenty  of  it, 
and  she  had  been  starved  so  long.  She  seized  on  Blent 
and  enjoyed  it  to  the  full.  She  enjoyed  Harry  too, 
laughing  now  when  he  stared  at  her  and  making  him 
laugh,  yet  herself  noting  all  his  ways,  his  pride,  his 
little  lordlinesses — these  grew  dear  to  her — his  air  of 
owning  the  countryside,  and  making  no  secret  of  her 
own  pleasure  in  being  part  of  the  family  and  in  living 
in  the  house  that  owned  the  countryside.  It  is  to  be 
feared  that  Mr  Gainsborough  and  his  chill  were  rather 
neglected,  but  he  got  on  very  well  with  Addie  Tris- 
tram's ancient  maid ;  she  had  the  nobility  at  her 
fingers'  ends  and  even  knew  something  about  their 
pedigrees.  Cecily  was  free,  or  assumed  the  freedom, 
to  spend  her  time  with  Harry,  or,  if  he  failed  her,  at 
least  with  and  among  the  things  that  belonged  to  him 
and  had  belonged  to  beautiful  Addie  Tristram  who 
had  been  like  her — so  Harrv  said,  and  Cecily  treasured 

[i6o] 


In  the   Long  Gallery 

the  thought,  teasing-  him  now  sometimes,  as  they  grew 
intimate,  with  a  purposed  repetition  of  a  pose  or  trick 
that  she  had  first  displayed  unconsciously,  and  found 
had  power  to  make  him  frown  or  smile.  She  smiled 
herself  in  mischievous  triumph  when  she  hit  her  mark, 
or  she  would  break  into  the  rich  gurgle  of  delight  that 
he  remembered  hearing  from  his  young  mother  when 
he  himself  was  a  child.  The  life  was  to  her  all  pure  de- 
light ;  she  had  no  share  in  the  thoughts  that  often  dark- 
ened his  brow,  no  knowledge  of  the  thing  which  again 
and  again  filled  him  with  that  wondering  despair. 

On  the  evening  of  the  day  when  Major  Duplay  went 
to  Fairholme,  the  two  sat  together  in  the  garden  after 
dinner.  It  was  nine  o'clock,  a  close  still  night,  with 
dark  clouds  now  and  then  slowly  moving  off  and  on  to 
the  face  of  a  moon  nearly  full.  They  had  been  silent 
for  some  minutes,  sipping  coffee.  Cecily  pointed  to 
the  row  of  windows  in  the  left  wing  of  the  house. 

"  I've  never  been  there,"  she  said.    "  What's  that?  " 
"  The  Long  Gallery^all  one  long  room,  you  know," 
he  answered. 

"  One  room  !    All  that !    What's  in  it  ?  " 
"  Well,  everything  mostly,"  he  smiled.     "  All  our 
treasures,  and  our  pictures,  and  so  on." 
"  Why  haven't  you  taken  me  there?" 
Harry  shrugged  his  shoulders.     "  You  never  asked 
me,"  he  said. 

"  Well,  will  you  take  me  there  now — when  you've 
finished  your  cigar?  " 

There  was  a  pause  before  he  answered,  "  Yes,  if  you 
like."  He  turned  to  the  servant  who  had  come  to  take 
away  the  coffee.     "  Light  up  the  Long  Gallery  at 


once." 


"  Yes,  my  lord."     A  slight  surprise  broke  through 
the  respectful  acceptance  of  the  order. 

"  It  was  lighted  last  for  my  mother,  months  ago," 

[i6i] 


Tristram  ^  Blent 

Harry  said,  as  though  he  were  explaining  his  servant's 
surprise.  "  She  sat  there  the  last  evening  before  she 
took  to  her  room." 

"  Is  that  why  you  haven't  taken  me  there?" 

"  I  expect  it  is."    His  tone  was  not  very  confident. 

"  And  you  don't  much  want  to  now  ?  " 

"  No,  I  don't  know  that  I  do."  But  his  reluctance 
seemed  vague  and  weak. 

"  Oh,  I  must  go,"  Cecily  decided,  "  but  you  needn't 
come  unless  you  like,  you  know." 

"  All  right,  you  go  alone,"  he  agreed. 

Window  after  window  sprang  into  light.  "  Ah !  " 
murmured  Cecily  in  satisfaction ;  and  Mina  Zabriska 
saw  the  illumination  from  the  terrace  of  Merrion  on 
the  hill.  Cecily  rose,  waved  her  hand  to  Harry,  and 
ran  off  into  the  house  with  a  laugh.  The  next  moment 
he  saw  her  figure  in  the  first  window ;  she  threw  it 
open,  waved  her  hand  again,  and  again  laughed;  the 
moon,  clear  for  a  moment,  shone  on  her  face  and 
turned  it  pale. 

He  sat  watching  the  lighted  windows.  From  time 
to  time  she  darted  into  sight;  once  he  heard  the  big 
window  at  the  end  facing  the  river  flung  open,  the  next 
instant  she  was  in  sight  at  the  other  extremity  of  the 
Gallery.  Evidently  she  was  running  about,  examin- 
ing all  the  things.  She  came  to  a  window  presently 
and  cried,  "  I  wish  you'd  come  and  tell  me  all  about 
it."     "  I  don't  think  I  will,"  he  called  back.     "  Oh, 

well !"  she  laughed  impatiently,  and  disappeared. 

Minutes  passed  and  he  did  not  see  her  again  ;  she  must 
have  settled  down  somewhere,  he  supposed ;  or  per- 
haps her  mterest  was  exhausted  and  she  had  gone  ofif 
to  her  father's  room.  No,  there  she  was,  fiitting  past 
a  window  again.  His  reluctance  gave  way  before 
curiosity  and  attraction.  Flinging  away  his  cigar,  he 
got  up  and  walked  slowly  into  the  house. 

[162  J 


In  the   Long  Gallery 

The  passage  outside  the  Gallery  was  dimly  lighted, 
and  the  door  of  the  Gallery  was  open.  Harry  stood  in 
the  shadow  unseen,  watching  intently  every  move- 
ment of  the  girl's.  She  was  looking  at  a  case  of  minia- 
tures and  medals,  memorials  of  beauties  and  of  war- 
riors. She  turned  from  them  to  the  picture  of  an 
Elizabethan  countess,  splendid  in  ruff  and  rich  in  em- 
broidery. She  caught  up  a  candle  and  held  it  over 
her  head,  up  toward  the  picture.  Then  setting  the 
candle  down  she  ran  to  the  end  window  and  looked  out 
on  the  night.  Addie  Tristram's  tall  arm-chair  still 
stood  by  the  window.  Cecily  threw  herself  into  it, 
sighing  and  stretching  her  arms  in  a  delighted  weari- 
ness. Mina  Zabriska  could  make  out  a  figure  in  the 
Long  Gallery  now. 

Slowly  and  irresolutely  Harry  Tristram  came  in ; 
Cecily's  face  was  not  turned  toward  the  door,  and  he 
stood  unnoticed  just  within  the  threshold.  His  eyes 
ranged  round  the  room  but  came  back  to  Cecily.  She 
was  very  quiet,  but  he  saw  her  breast  rise  and  fall  in 
quick  breathing.  She  was  stirred  and  moved.  A 
strange  agitation,  an  intensity  of  feeling,  came  over 
him  as  he  stood  there  motionless,  everything  seeming 
motionless  around  him,  while  his  ancestors  and  hers 
looked  down  on  them  from  the  walls,  down  on  their 
successors.  The  Lords  of  Blent  were  about  him. 
Their  trophies  and  their  treasures  decked  the  room. 
And  she  sat  there  in  Addie  Tristram's  chair,  in  Addie 
Tristram's  place,  in  Addie  Tristram's  attitude.  Did 
the  dead  know  the  secret?  Did  the  pictures  share  it? 
Who  was  to  them  the  Lord  of  Blent  ? 

He  shook  off  these  idle  fancies — a  man  should  not 
give  way  to  them — and  walked  up  the  room  with  a 
steady  assured  tread.  Even  then  she  did  not  seem  to 
hear  him  till  he  spoke. 

"  Well,  do  you  like  it  ?  "  he  asked,  leaning  against  a 

[163] 


Tristram  of  Blent 

table  in  the  middle  of  the  upper  part  of  the  room,  a 
few  feet  from  the  chair  where  she  sat.  Now  Mina  Za- 
briska  made  out  two  figures,  cast  up  by  the  bright  light 
against  the  darkness,  and  watched  them  with  an  eager- 
ness that  had  no  reason  in  it. 

"  Like  it !  "  she  cried,  springing  to  her  feet,  running 
to  him,  holding  out  her  hands.  "  Like  it !  Oh,  Harry ! 
Why,  it's  better  than  all  the  rest.  Better,  even  bet- 
ter!" 

"  It's  rather  a  jolly  room,"  said  Harry.  "  The  pict- 
ures and  all  the  things  about  make  it  look  well." 

"  Oh,  I'm  not  going  to  say  anything  if  you  talk  like 
that.  You  don't  feel  like  that !— '  Rather  a  jolly 
room ! '  That's  what  one  says  if  the  inn  parlor's  com- 
fortable.    This  isn't  a  room.     It's — it's " 

"  Shall  we  call  it  a  temple  ?  "  he  suggested,  smiling. 

"  I  believe  it's  heaven — the  private  particular  Tris- 
tram heaven.  They're  all  here !  "  She  waved  toward 
the  pictures.     "  Here  in  a  heaven  of  their  own." 

"  And  we're  allowed  to  visit  it  before  we  die?  " 

"  Yes.  At  least  I  am.  You  let  me  visit  it.  It  be- 
longs to  you — to  the  dead  and  you." 

"  Do  you  want  to  stay  here  any  longer?  "  he  asked 
with  a  sudden  roughness. 

"  Yes,  lots  longer,"  she  laughed  defiantly,  quite  un- 
dismayed. "  You  needn't,  though.  You'll  have  it  all 
your  life.  Perhaps  I  shall  never  have  it  again. 
Father's  better!  And  I  don't  know  if  you'll  ever  ask 
us  here  again.  You  never  did  before,  you  know.  So 
I  mean  to  have  all  of  it  I  can  get."  She  darted  away 
from  him  and  ran  back  to  the  miniatures.  A  richly  or- 
namented sword  hung  on  the  wall  just  above  them. 
This  caught  her  notice;  she  took  it  down  and  un- 
sheathed it. 

"  Henricus  Baro  Tristram  dc  Blent,''  she  spelt  out 
from  the  enamelled  steel.    "  Per  Ensem  Justitia.    What 

[164] 


In  the   Long  Gallery 

does  that  mean  ?  No,  I  know.  Rather  a  good  motto, 
cousin  Harry.  *  That  he  shall  take  who  has  the  power, 
and  he  shall  keep  who  can ! '  That  was  his  justice,  I 
expect !  " 

"Do  you  quarrel  with  it?  If  this  was  all  yours, 
would  you  give  it  up  ?  " 

"  Not  without  a  fight !  "  she  laughed.  "  Per  Enscm 
Jiistitia!"     She  waved  the  blade. 

Harry  left  her  busy  with  the  things  that  were  so 
great  a  delight  and  walked  to  the  window  at  the  other 
end  of  the  long  room.  Thence  he  watched,  now  her, 
now  the  clouds  that  lounged  off  and  on  to  the  moon's 
disk.  More  and  more,  though,  his  eyes  were  caught 
by  her  and  glued  to  her ;  she  was  the  centre  of  the 
room ;  it  seemed  all  made  and  prepared  for  her  even 
as  it  had  seemed  for  Addie  Tristram.  The  motto  ran 
in  his  head — Per  Enscm  Jiistitia.  What  was  the  justice 
and  what  the  sword?  He  awoke  to  the  cause  of  the 
changed  mood  in  him  and  of  the  agitation  in  which  he 
had  been  living.  It  was  nothing  to  defy  the  law,  to 
make  light  of  a  dry  abstraction,  to  find  right  against 
it  in  his  blood.  His  opponent  now  was  no  niore  the 
law,  it  was  no  more  even  some  tiresome,  unknown,  un- 
realized girl  in  London,  with  surroundings  most  un- 
picturesque  and  associations  that  had  no  power  to 
touch  his  heart.  Here  was  the  enemy,  this  creature 
whose  every  movement  claimed  the  blood  that  was 
hers,  whose  coming  repaired  the  loss  Blent  had  suf- 
fered in  losing  Addie  Tristram,  whose  presence 
crowned  its  charms  with  a  new  glory.  Nature  that  fash- 
ioned her  in  the  Tristram  image — had  it  not  put  in  her 
hand  the  sword  by  which  she  should  win  justice?  The 
thought  passed  through  his  mind  now  without  a 
shock ;  he  seemed  to  see  her  mistress  of  Blent ;  for 
the  moment  he  forgot  himself  as  anyone  save  an  on- 
looker ;   he  did  not  seem  concerned. 

[165] 


Tristram   of  Blent 

Once  more  he  roused  himself.  He  had  fallen  into  a 
fear  of  the  fancies  that  threatened  to  carry  him  he  did 
not  know  where.  He  wanted  to  get  away  from  this 
room  with  its  suggestions,  and  from  the  presence  that 
gave  them  such  force. 

"Aren't  you  ready  yet?"  he  called  to  her.  "It's 
getting  late." 

"  Are  you  still  there?  "  she  cried  back  in  a  gay  affec- 
tation of  surprise.  "  I'd  forgotten  all  about  you,  I 
thought  I  had  it  to  myself.  I  was  trying  to  think  it 
was  all  mine." 

"  Shall  we  go  downstairs  ?  "  His  voice  was  hard 
and  constrained. 

"  No,  I  won't,"  she  said  squarely.  "  I  can't  go.  It's 
barely  ten  o'clock.  Come,  we'll  talk  here.  You  smoke 
— or  is  that  high  treason? — and  I'll  sit  here."  She 
threw  herself  into  Addie  Tristram's  great  chair.  There 
was  a  triumphant  gayety  in  her  air  that  spoke  of  her 
joy  in  all  about  her,  of  her  sense  of  the  boundless  satis- 
faction that  her  surroundings  gave.  "  I  love  it  all  so 
much,"  she  murmured,  half  perhaps  to  herself,  yet  still 
as  a  plea  to  him  that  he  would  not  seek  to  hurry  her 
from  the  place. 

Harry  turned  away,  again  with  that  despair  on  him. 
She  gave  him  permission  to  go,  but  he  could  not  leave 
her — neither  her  nor  now  the  room.  Yet  he  was 
afraid  that  he  could  not  answer  for  himself  if  he  stayed. 
It  was  too  strange  that  every  association,  and  every 
tradition,  and  every  emotion  which  had  through  all 
the  years  seemed  to  justify  and  even  to  sanctify  his 
own  position  and  the  means  he  was  taking  to  preserve 
it,  should  in  two  or  three  days  begin  to  desert  him, 
and  should  now  in  this  hour  openly  range  themselves 
against  him  and  on  her  side ;  so  that  all  he  invoked 
to  aid  him  pleaded  for  her,  all  that  he  had  prayed  to 
bless  him  and  his  enterprise  blessed  her  and  cursed 
the  work  to  which  he  had  put  his  hand. 

[i66] 


In  the   Long  Gallery 

Which  of  them  could  best  face  the  world  without 
Blent?  Which  of  them  could  best  look  the  world  in 
the  face  having  Blent  ?  These  were  the  questions  that 
rose  in  his  mind  with  tempestuous  insistence. 

"  I  could  sit  here  forever,"  she  murmured,  a  lazy 
enjoyment  succeeding  to  the  agile  movements  of  her 
body  and  the  delighted  agitation  of  her  nerves.  "  It 
just  suits  me  to  sit  here,  cousin  Harry.  Looking  like 
a  great  lady !  "  Her  eyes  challenged  him  to  deny  that 
she  looked  the  part  to  perfection.  She  glanced 
through  the  window.  "  I  met  that  funny  little  Madame 
Zabriska  who  lives  up  at  Merrion  Lodge  to-day.  She 
seems  very  anxious  to  know  all  about  us." 

"  Madame  Zabriska  has  a  healthy — or  unhealthy — 
curiosity."  The  mention  of  Mina  was  a  fresh  prick. 
Mina  knew ;   suddenly  he  hated  that  she  should  know. 

"  Is  she  in  love  with  you?  "  asked  Cecily,  mocking- 
ly yet  languidly,  indeed  as  a  great  iady  might  inquire 
about  the  less  exalted,  condescending  to  be  amused. 

"  Nobody's  in  love  with  me,  not  even  the  girl  who's 
going  to  marry  me." 

"  To  marry  you  ?  "  She  sat  up,  looking  at  him. 
"  Are  you  engaged  ?  " 

"  Yes,  to  Janie  Iver.     You  know  who  I  mean  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  know.  You're  going  to  be  married  to 
her?" 

"  I  asked  her  a  week  ago.  To-day  she  wrote  to  say 
she'd  have  me."  He  was  on  his  feet  even  as  he  spoke. 
"  To  marry  me  and  to  marry  all  this,  you  know." 

She  was  too  sympathetic  to  waste  breath  on  civil 
pretences. 

"  To  be  mistress  here?  To  own  this?  To  be  Lady 
Tristram  of  Blent?" 

"  Yes.  To  have  what — what  I'm  supposed  to  have," 
said  he. 

Cecily  regarded  him  intently  for  another  moment. 

[167] 


Tristram  of  Blent 

Then  she  sank  back  into  Addie  Tristram's  great  arm- 
chair, asking,  "Will  she  do  it  well?" 

"  No,"  said  Harry.  "  She's  a  good  sort,  but  she 
won't  do  it  well." 

Cecily  sighed  and  turned  her  head  toward  the 
window. 

"  Why  do  you  do  it ?    Do  you  care  for  her?  " 

"  I  like  her.  And  I  want  money.  She's  very  rich. 
Money  might  be  useful  to  me." 

"  You  seem  very  rich.    Why  do  you  want  money?  " 


"  I  might  want  it. 


There  was  silence  for  a  moment.  "  Well,  I  hope 
you'll  be  happy,"  she  said  presently. 

She  herself  was  the  reason — the  embodied  reason 
(was  reason  ever  more  fairly  embodied?),  why  he  was 
going  to  marry  Janie  Iver.  The  monstrousness  of  it 
rose  before  his  mind.  When  he  told  of  his  engage- 
ment, there  had  been  for  an  instant  a  look  in  her 
eyes.  Wonder  it  was  at  least.  Was  it  disappoint- 
ment? Was  it  at  all  near  to  consternation?  She  sat 
very  still  now;  her  gayety  was  gone.  She  was  like 
Addie  Tristram  still,  but  like  Addie  when  the  hard 
world  used  her  ill,  when  there  were  aches  to  be 
borne  and  sins  to  be  reckoned  with.  As  he  watched 
her,  yet  another  new  thing  came  upon  him,  or  a  thing 
that  seemed  to  be  as  new  as  the  last  quarter  chimed 
by  the  old  French  clock  on  the  mantel-piece,  and  yet 
might  date  back  so  long  as  three  days  ago.  Even  now 
it  hardly  reached  consciousness,  certainly  did  not  at- 
tain explicitness.  It  was  still  rather  than  Janie  was  no 
mistress  for  Blent  and  that  this  girl  was  the  ideal.  It 
was  Blent  still  rather  than  himself,  Blent's  mistress 
rather  than  his.  But  it  was  enough  to  set  a  new  edge 
on  his  questioning.  Was  he  to  be  the  man — he  who 
looked  on  her  now  and  saw  how  fair  she  was — was  he 
to  be  the  man  to  deny  her  her  own,  to  rob  her  of  her 

[i68] 


In  the  Long   Gallery 

right,  to  parade  before  the  world  in  the  trappings 
which  were  hers  ?  It  was  all  so  strange,  so  overwhelm- 
ing. He  dropped  into  a  chair  by  him  and  pressed  his 
hand  across  his  brow.  A  low  murmur,  almost  a 
groan,  escaped  him  in  the  tumult  of  his  soul.  "  My 
God  !  "  he  whispered,  in  a  whisper  that  seemed  to  echo 
through  the  room. 

''  Harry !  Are  you  unhappy  ?  "  In  an  instant  she 
was  by  him.  "  What  is  it?  I  don't  understand.  You 
tell  me  you're  engaged,  and  you  look  so  unhappy. 
Why  do  you  marry  her  if  you  don't  love  her?  Are  you 
giving  her  all  this — and  yourself — you  yourself — with- 
out loving  her?  Dear  Harry — yes,  you've  been  very 
good  to  me — dear  Harry,  why  ?  " 

"  Go  back,"  he  said.  "  Go  back  to  your  chair.  Go 
and  sit  there." 

With  wonder  in  her  eyes  and  a  smile  fresh-born  on 
her  lips  she  obeyed  him. 

"Well?"  she  said.  "You're  very  odd.  But— 
why  ?  " 

"  I'm  marrying  her  for  Blent's  sake — and  I  think 
she's  marrying  me  for  Blent's  sake." 

"  I  call  that  horrible." 

"  No."  He  sprang  to  his  feet.  "  If  Blent  was  yours, 
what  would  you  do  to  keep  it  ?  " 

"  Everything,"  she  answered.  "  Everything — ex- 
cept sell  myself,  Harry." 

She  was  superb.  By  a  natural  instinct,  all  affecta- 
tion forgotten,  she  had  thrown  herself  into  Addic 
Tristram's  attitude.  There  was  the  head  on  the  bend 
of  the  arm,  there  was  the  dainty  foot  stuck  out.  There 
was  all  the  defiance  of  a  world  insensate  to  love,  greedy 
to  find  sin,  dull  to  see  grace  and  beauty,  blind  to  a 
woman's  self  while  it  cavilled  at  a  woman's  deeds. 

"Everything  except  sell  yourself?"  he  repeated, 
his  eyes  set  on  her  face. 

[169] 


Tristram  of  Blent 

"Yes — Per  Eiisoii  Jitsfitia!"  she  laughed.  "But 
not  lies,  and  not  buying  and  selling,  Harry." 

"  My  word  is  given.    I  must  marry  her  now." 

"  Better  fling  Blent  away !  "  she  flashed  out  in  a 
brilliant  indignation. 

"  And  if  I  did  that  ?  " 

"  A  woman  would  love  you  for  yourself,"  she  cried, 
leaning  forward  to  him  with  hands  clasped. 

Again  he  rose  and  paced  the  length  of  the  Long 
Gallery.  The  moment  was  come.  There  was  a  great 
alliance  against  him.  He  fought  still.  At  every  step 
he  took  he  came  to  something  that  still  was  his,  that 
he  prized,  that  he  loved,  that  meant  much  to  him,  that 
typified  his  position  as  Tristram  of  Blent.  A  separate 
pang  waited  on  every  step,  a  great  agony  rose  in  him 
with  the  thought  that  he  might  be  walking  this  room 
as  its  master  for  the  last  time.  Yes,  it  had  come  to 
that.  For  against  all,  threatening  to  conquer  all,  was 
the  girl  who  sat  in  his  mother's  chair,  her  very  body 
asserting  the  claim  that  her  thoughts  did  not  know 
and  her  mouth  could  not  utter.  And  yet  his  mood  had 
affected  her.  The  upturned  eyes  were  full  of  excite- 
ment, the  parted  lips  waited  for  a  word  from  him. 
Mina  Zabriska  had  left  her  terrace  and  gone  to  bed, 
declaring  that  she  was  still  on  Harry's  side ;  but  she 
was  not  with  him  in  this  fight. 

He  returned  to  Cecily  and  stood  by  her.  The  sym- 
pathy between  them  kept  her  still ;  she  watched,  she 
waited.  For  minutes  he  was  silent ;  all  thought  of 
time  was  gone.  Now  she  knew  that  he  had  something 
great  to  say.  Was  it  that  he  would  and  could  have  no 
more  to  do  with  Janie  Iver,  that  another  had  come, 
that  his  word  must  go,  and  that  he  loved  her?  She 
could  hardly  believe  that.  It  was  so  short  a  time  since 
he  had  seen  her.  Yet  why  could  it  not  be  true  of  him, 
if  it  were  true  of  her  ?    And  was  it  not  ?    Else  why  did 

[170] 


In   the   Long   Gallery 

she  hang  on  his  words  and  keep  her  eyes  on  his  ?  Else 
why  was  it  so  still  in  the  room,  as  though  the  world 
too  waited  for  speech  from  his  lips  ? 

"  I  can't  do  it !  "  burst  from  him  suddenly.  "  By 
God,  I  can't  do  it !  " 

"  What,  Harry  ? "  The  words  were  no  more  than 
breathed.  He  came  right  up  to  her  and  caught  her  by 
the  arm. 

"  You  see  all  that — everything  here?  You  love  it?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  As  much  as  I  do?  As  much  as  I  do?"  His  self- 
control  was  gone.  She  made  no  answer;  she  could 
not  understand. 

With  an  effort  he  mastered  himself. 

"  Yes,  you  love  it,"  he  said,  and  a  smile  came  on 
his  face.  "  I'm  glad  you  love  it.  As  God  lives,  unless 
you'd  loved  it,  I'd  have  spoken  not  a  word  of  this.  But 
you're  one  of  us,  you're  a  Tristram.  I  don't  know  the 
real  rights  of  it,  but  I'll  run  no  risk  of  cheating  a  Tris- 
tram.   You  love  it  all  ?  " 

"  Yes,  yes,  Harry.     But  why,  dear  Harry,  why?  " 

"Why?    Because  it's  yours." 

He  let  go  her  hand  and  reeled  back  a  step. 

"  Mine?  What  do  you  mean?  "  she  cried.  Still  the 
idea,  the  wild  idea,  that  he  offered  it  with  himself  was 
in  her  mind. 

**  It's  yours,  not  mine — it's  never  been  mine.  You're 
the  owner  of  it.    You're  Tristram  of  Blent." 

"  I — I  Tristram  of  Blent?  "  She  was  utterly  bewil- 
dered. For  he  was  not  a  lover — no  lover  ever  spoke 
like  that. 

"  Yes,  I  say,  yes."  His  voice  rose  imperiously  as  it 
pronounced  the  words  that  threw  away  his  rule. 
"  You're  Lady  Tristram  of  Blent." 

She  did  not  understand ;  yet  she  believed.  lie 
spoke  so  that  he  must  be  believed. 

[171] 


Tristram   ^  Blent 

"  This  is  all  yours — yours — yours.  You're  Tristram 
of  Blent." 

She  rose  to  her  height,  and  stood  facing  him. 

"And  you?    And  you?" 

"I?     I'm— Harry." 

"Harry?    Harry?    Harry  what?" 

He  smiled  as  he  looked  at  her ;  as  his  eyes  met  hers 
he  smiled. 

"  Harry  what  ?  Harry  Nothing,"  he  said.  "  Harry 
Nothing-at-all." 

He  turned  and  left  her  alone  in  the  room.  She  sank 
back  into  the  great  arm-chair  where  Addie  Tristram 
had  been  wont  to  sit. 


[172] 


XIV 

The  Very  Same  Day 

SFLA.LL  I  wait  up,  my  lord  ?  Miss  Gainsborough 
has  gone  to  her  room.  I've  turned  out  the  Hghts 
and  shut  up  the  house." 

Harry  looked  at  the  clock  in  the  study.  It  was  one 
o'clock. 

"  I  thought  you'd  gone  to  bed  long  ago,  Mason." 
He  rose  and  stretched  himself.  "  I'm  going  to  town 
early  in  the  morning.  I  shan't  want  any  breakfast  and 
I  shan't  take  anybody  with  me.  Tell  Fisher  to  pack 
my  portmanteau — things  for  a  few  days — and  send  it 
to  Paddington.  I'll  have  it  fetched  from  there.  Tell 
him  to  be  ready  to  follow  me,  if  I  send  for  him." 

"  Yes,  my  lord." 

"  Give  that  letter  to  Miss  Gainsborough  in  the 
morning."  He  handed  Mason  a  thick  letter.  Two 
others  lay  on  the  table.  After  a  moment's  apparent 
hesitation  Harry  put  them  in  his  pocket.  "  I'll  post 
them  myself,"  he  said.  "  When  did  Miss  Gains- 
borough go  to  her  room?  " 

"  About  an  hour  back,  my  lord." 

"  Did  she  stay  in  the  Long  Gallery  till  then  ?  " 

"  Yes,  my  lord." 

"  I  may  be  away  a  little  while,  Mason.  I  hope  Miss 
Gainsborough — and  Mr  Gainsborough  too — will  be 
staying  on  some  time.     Make  them  comfortable." 

Not  a  sign  of  curiosity  or  surprise  escaped  Mason. 
His  "  Yes,,  my  lord,"  was  just  the  same  as  though 
Harry  had  ordered  an  egg  for  breakfast.    Sudden  com- 

[173] 


Tristram   ^  Blent 

ings  and  goings  had  always  been  the  fashion  of  the 
house. 

"  All  right.     Good-night,  Mason." 

"  Good-night,  my  lord."  Mason  looked  round  for 
something  to  carry  oflf — the  force  of  habit — found 
nothing,  and  retired  noiselessly. 

"  One  o'clock  !  "  sighed  Harry.  "  Ah,  I'm  tired.  I 
won't  go  to  bed  though,  I  couldn't  sleep." 

He  moved  restlessly  about  the  room.  His  flood  of 
feeling  had  gone  by ;  for  the  time  the  power  of  thought 
too  seemed  to  have  deserted  him.  He  had  told  Cecily 
everything;  he  had  told  Janie  enough;  he  had 
yielded  to  an  impulse  to  write  a  line  to  Mina 
Zabriska — because  she  had  been  so  mixed  up  in  it 
all.  The  documents  that  were  to  have  proved  his  claim 
made  a  little  heap  of  ashes  in  the  grate. 

All  this  had  been  two  hours'  hard  work.  But  after 
all  two  hours  is  not  long  to  spend  in  getting  rid  of  an 
old  life  and  entering  on  a  new.  He  found  himself 
rather  surprised  at  the  simplicity  of  the  process.  What 
was  there  left  to  do?  He  had  only  to  go  to  London 
and  see  his  lawyer — an  interview  easy  enough  for  him, 
though  startling  no  doubt  to  the  lawyer.  Cecily  would 
be  put  into  possession  of  her  own.  There  was  noth- 
ing sensational.  He  would  travel  a  bit  perhaps,  or  just 
stay  in  town.  He  had  money  enough  to  live  on  quiet- 
ly or  to  use  in  making  more ;  for  his  mother's  savings 
were  indubitably  his,  left  to  him  by  a  will  in  which  he, 
the  real  Harry,  was  so  expressly  designated  by  his 
own  full  name — even  more  than  that — as  "  Henry 
Austen  Fitzhubert  Tristram,  otherwise  Henry  Austen 
Fitzhubert,  my  son  by  the  late  Captain  Austen  Fitz- 
hubert " — that  no  question  of  his  right  could  arise. 
That  money  would  not  go  with  the  title.  Only  Blent 
and  all  the  realty  passed  with  that ;  the  money  was  not 
afifected  by  the  date  of  his  birth ;    that  must  be  ex- 

[174] 


The  Very  Same  Day 

plained  to  Cecily  by  his  lawyer  or  perhaps  she  would 
expect  to  get  it.  For  the  moment  there  was  nothing  to 
do  but  to  go  to  London — and  then  perhaps  travel  a  bit. 
He  smiled  for  an  instant ;  it  certainly  struck  him  as 
rather  an  anti-climax.  He  threw  himself  on  a  sofa 
and,  in  spite  of  his  conviction  that  he  could  not  sleep, 
dozed  off  almost  directly. 

It  was  three  when  he  awoke ;  he  went  up  to  his 
room,  had  a  bath,  shaved,  and  put  on  a  tweed  suit. 
Coming  down  to  the  study  again,  he  opened  the  shut- 
ters and  looked  out.  It  would  be  light  soon,  and  he 
could  go  away.  He  was  fretfully  impatient  of  stay- 
ing. He  drank  some  whiskey  and  soda-water,  and 
smoked  a  cigar  as  he  walked  up  and  down.  Yes,  there 
were  signs  of  dawn  now ;  the  darkness  lifted  over  the 
hill  on  which  Merrion  stood. 

Merrion !  Yes,  Merrion.  And  the  Major?  Well, 
Duplay  had  not  frightened  him,  Duplay  had  not 
turned  him  out.  He  was  going  of  his  own  will — of  his 
own  act  anyhow,  for  he  could  not  feel  so  sure  about 
the  will.  But  for  the  first  time  it  struck  him  that  his 
abdication  might  accrue  to  the  Major's  benefit,  that 
he  had  won  for  Duplay  the  prize  which  he  was  sure 
the  gallant  officer  could  not  have  achieved  for  himself. 
"  I'll  be  hanged  if  I  do  that,"  he  muttered.  "  Yes,  I 
know  what  I'll  do,"  he  added,  smiling. 

He  got  his  hat  and  stick  and  went  out  into  the 
garden.  The  windows  of  the  Long  Gallery  were  all 
dark.  Harry  smiled  again  and  shook  his  fist  at  them. 
There  was  no  light  in  Cecily's  window.  He  was  glad 
to  think  that  the  girl  slept ;  if  he  were  tired  she  must 
be  terribly  tired  too.  He  was  quite  alone — alone  with 
the  old  place  for  the  last  time.  He  walked  to  where 
he  had  sat  with  Cecily,  where  his  mother  used  to  sit. 
He  was  easy  in  his  mind  about  his  mother.  When  she 
had  wanted  him  to  keep  the  house  and  the  name,  she 

[175] 


Tristram   (^/^  Blent 

had  no  idea  of  the  true  state  of  the  case.  And  in  fact 
she  herself  had  done  it  all  by  requesting  him  to  invite 
the  Gainsboroughs  to  her  funeral.  That  was  proof 
enough  that  he  had  not  wronged  her ;  in  the  mood  he 
was  in  it  seemed  quite  proof  enough.  Realities  were 
still  a  little  dim  to  him,  and  fancies  rather  real.  His 
outward  calmness  of  manner  had  returned,  but  his 
mind  was  not  in  a  normal  state.  Still  he  was  awake 
enough  to  the  every-day  world  and  to  his  ordinary 
feelings  to  remain  very  eager  that  his  sacrifice  should 
not  turn  to  the  Major's  good. 

He  started  at  a  brisk  walk  to  the  little  bridge, 
reached  the  middle  of  it,  and  stopped  short.  The  talk 
he  had  had  with  Mina  Zabriska  at  this  very  spot  came 
back  into  his  mind.  "The  blood,  not  the  law!"  he 
had  said.  Well,  it  was  to  the  blood  he  had  bowed  and 
not  to  the  law.  He  was  strong  about  not  having  been 
frightened  by  the  law.  Nor  had  he  been  dispossessed, 
he  insisted  on  that  too.  He  had  given  ;  he  had  chosen 
to  give.  He  made  a  movement  as  though  to  walk  on, 
but  for  a  moment  he  could  not.  When  it  came  to  go- 
ing, for  an  instant  he  corld  not  go.  The  parting  was 
difficult.  He  had  no  discontent  with  what  he  had 
done ;  on  the  whole  it  seemed  far  easier  than  he  could 
ever  have  imagined.  But  it  was  hard  to  go,  to  leave 
Blent  just  as  the  slowly  growing  day  brought  into 
sight  every  outline  that  he  knew  so  well,  and  began 
to  warm  the  gardens  into  life.  "  I  should  rather 
like  to  stay  a  day,"  was  his  thought,  as  he  lingered 
still.  But  the  next  moment  he  was  across  the  bridge, 
slamming  the  gate  behind  him  and  beginning  to 
mount  the  road  up  the  valley.  He  had  heard  a  shut- 
ter thrown  open  and  a  window  raised  ;  the  sound  came 
from  the  wing  where  Cecily  slept.  He  did  not  want  to 
see  her  now ;  he  did  not  wish  her  to  see  him.  She  was 
to  awake  to  undivided  possession,  free  from  any  re- 

[176] 


The   Very   Same   Day 

minder  of  him.  That  was  his  fancy,  his  idea  of  making 
his  gift  to  her  of  what  was  hers  more  splendid  and  more 
complete.  But  she  did  see  him ;  she  watched  him 
from  her  window  as  he  walked  away  up  the  valley. 
He  did  not  know^ ;  true  to  his  fancy,  he  never  turned 
his  head. 

Bob  Broadley  was  an  early  riser,  as  his  business  in 
life  demanded.  At  six  o'clock  he  was  breakfasting  in 
a  bright  little  room  opening. on  his  garden.  He  was  in 
the  middle  of  his  rasher  when  a  shadow  fell  across  his 
plate.  Looking  up,  he  started  to  see  Harry  Tristram 
at  the  doorway. 

"  Lord  Tristram  !  "  he  exclaimed. 

"  You've  called  me  Tristram  all  your  life.  I  should 
think  you  might  still,"  observed  Harry. 

"  Oh,  all  right.  But  what  brings  you  here  ?  These 
aren't  generally  your  hours,  are  they?  " 

"  Perhaps  not.    May  I  have  some  breakfast?  " 

The  maid  was  summoned  and  brought  him  what  he 
asked.  She  nearly  dropped  the  cup  and  saucer  when 
she  realized  that  the  Great  Man  was  there — at  six  in 
the  morning! 

"  I'm  on  my  way  to  London,"  said  Harry.  "  Going 
to  take  the  train  at  Fillingford  instead  of  Blentmouth, 
because  I  wanted  to  drop  in  on  you.  I've  something 
to  say." 

"  I  expect  I've  heard.  It's  very  kind  of  you  to  come, 
but  I  saw  Janie  Iver  in  Blentmouth  yesterday." 

"  I  dare  say ;  but  she  didn't  tell  you  what  I'm  going 
to." 

Harry,  having  made  but  a  pretence  of  breakfasting, 
pushed  away  his  plate.  "  I'll  smoke  if  you  don't  mind. 
You  go  on  eating,"  he  said.  "  Do  you  remember  a 
little  talk  we  had  about  our  friend  Duplay?  We 
agreed  that  we  should  both  like  to  put  a  spoke  in  his 
wheel." 

[177] 


Tristram   of  Blent 

"  And  you've  done  it,"  said  Bob,  reaching  for  his 
pipe  from  the  mantel-piece. 

"  I  did  do  it.  I  can't  do  it  any  more.  You  know 
there  were  certain  reasons  which  made  a  marriage  be- 
tween Janie  Iver  and  me  seem  desirable  ?  I'm  saying 
nothing  against  her,  and  I  don't  intend  to  say  a  word 
against  myself.  Well,  those  reasons  no  longer  exist. 
I  have  written  to  her  to  say  so.  She'll  get  that  letter 
this  afternoon." 

"You've  written  to  break  ofif  the  engagement?" 
Bob  spoke  slowly  and  thoughtfully,  but  with  no  great 
surprise. 

"  Yes.  She  accepted  me  under  a  serious  misappre- 
hension. When  I  asked  her  I  was  in  a  position  to 
which  I  had  no "  He  interrupted  himself,  frown- 
ing a  little.  Not  even  now  was  he  ready  to  say  that. 
"In  a  position  which  I  no  longer  occupy,"  he 
amended,  recovering  his  placidity.  "  All  the  world 
will  know  that  very  soon.  I  am  no  longer  owner  of 
Blent." 

"  What?  "  cried  Bob,  jumping  up  and  looking  hard 
at  Harry,    The  surprise  came  now. 

"  And  I  am  no  longer  what  you  called  me  just  now — 
Lord  Tristram.  You  know  the  law  about  succeeding 
to  peerages  and  entailed  lands?  Very  well.  My  birth 
has  been  discovered  [he  smiled  for  an  instant]  not  to 
satisfy  that  law — the  merits  of  which.  Bob,  we  won't 
discuss.  Consequently  not  I,  but  Miss  Gainsborough 
succeeds  my  mother  in  the  title  and  the  property.  I 
have  informed  Miss  Gainsborough — I  ought  to  say 
Lady  Tristram — of  these  facts,  and  I'm  on  my  way  to 
London  to  see  the  lawyers  and  get  everything  done  in 
proper  order." 

"  Good  God,  do  you  mean  what  you  say?  " 

"  Oh,  of  course  I  do.  Do  you  take  me  for  an  idiot, 
to  come  up  here  at  six  in  the  morning  to  talk  balder- 

[178] 


The   Very  Same   Day 

dash  ?  "  Harry  was  obviously  irritated.  "  Everybody 
will  know  soon.  I  came  to  tell  you  because  I  fancy 
you've  some  concern  in  it,  and,  as  I  say,  I  still  want 
that  spoke  put  in  the  Major's  wheel." 

Bob  sat  down  and  was  silent  for  many  moments, 
smoking  hard. 

"  But  Janie  won't  do  that,"  he  broke  out  at  last. 
"  She's  too  straight,  too  loyal.  If  she's  accepted 
you " 

"  A  beautiful  idea,  Bob,  if  she  was  in  love  with 
me.  But  she  isn't.  Can  you  tell  me  you  think 
she  is?  " 

Bob  grunted  inarticulately — an  obvious,  though  not 
a  skilful,  evasion  of  the  question. 

"  And  anyhow,"  Harry  pursued,  "  the  thing's  at  an 
end.  I  shan't  marry  her.  Now  if  that  suggests  any 
action  on  your  part  I — well,  I  shall  be  glad  I  came  to 
breakfast."  He  got  up  and  went  to  the  window,  look- 
ing out  on  the  neat  little  garden  and  to  the  paddock 
beyond. 

In  a  moment  Bob  Broadley's  hand  was  laid  on  his 
shoulder.     He  turned  and  faced  him. 

"  What  a  thing  for  you  !    You — you  lose  it  all  ?  " 

"  I  have  given  it  all  up." 

"  I  can't  realize  it,  you  know.     The  change " 

"  Perhaps  I  can't  either.  I  don't  know  that  I  want 
to.  Bob." 

"  Who  made  the  discovery?  How  did  it  come  out? 
Nobody  ever  had  any  suspicion  of-it!" 

Harry  looked  at  him  long  and  thoughtfully,  but  in 
the  end  he  only  shook  his  head,  saying,  "  Well,  it's 
true  anyhow." 

"  It  beats  me.  I  see  what  you  mean  about  myself 
and — Still  I  give  you  my  word  I  hate  its  happening. 
Who's  this  girl  ?  W^iy  is  she  to  come  here  ?  W' ho 
knows  anything  about  her?  " 

[179] 


Tristram  of  Blent 

"  You  don't,  of  course,"  Harry  conceded  with  a 
smile.    "  No  more  did  I  a  week  ago." 

"  Couldn't  you  have  made  a  fight  for  it?  " 

"  Yes,  a  deuced  good  fight.  But  I  chose  to  let 
it  go.  Now  don't  go  on  looking  as  if  you  didn't  under- 
stand the  thing.     It's  simple  enough." 

"  But  Lady  Tristram — your  mother — must  have 
known " 

"  The  question  didn't  arise  as  long  as  my  mother 
lived,"  said  Harry  quickly.  "  Her  title  was  all  right, 
of  course." 

There  was  another  question  on  the  tip  of  Bob's 
tongue,  but  after  a  glance  at  Harry's  face  he  did  not 
put  it ;  he  could  not  ask  Harry  if  he  had  known, 

"I'm  hanged!"  he  muttered. 

"  Yes,  but  you  understand  why  I  came  here  ?  " 

"  Yes.    That  was  kind." 

"  Oh,  no.  I  want  to  spike  the  Major's  guns,  you 
know."  He  laughed  a  little.  "  And — well,  yes,  I  think 
I'm  promoting  the  general  happiness  too,  if  you  must 
know.    Now  I'm  ofif.  Bob." 

He  held  out  his  hand  and  Bob  grasped  it.  "  We'll 
meet  again  some  day,  when  things  have  settled  down. 
Beat  Duplay  for  me,  Bob.     Good-by." 

"  That's  grit,  real  grit,"  muttered  Bob,  as  he  re- 
turned to  the  house  after  seeing  Harry  Tristram  on  his 
way. 

It  was  that — or  else  the  intoxication  of  some  in- 
fluence whose  power  had  not  passed  away.  Whatever 
it  was,  it  had  a  marked  efifect  on  Bob  Broadley.  There 
was  an  appearance  of  strength  and  resolution  about 
it — as  of  a  man  knowing  what  he  meant  to  do  and  do- 
ing it.  As  he  inspected  his  pigs  an  hour  later,  Bob 
came  to  the  conclusion  that  he  himself  was  a  poor  sort 
of  fellow.  People  who  waited  for  the  fruit  to  fall  into 
their  mouths  were  apt  to  find  that  a  hand  intervened 

[i8o] 


The   Very   Same   Day 

and  plucked  it.  That  had  happened  to  him  once,  and 
probably  he  could  not  have  helped  it ;  but  he  meant 
to  try  to  prevent  its  happening  again.  He  was  in  a 
ferment  all  the  morning,  partly  on  his  own  account, 
as  much  about  the  revolution  which  had  suddenly 
occurred  in  the  little  kingdom  on  the  banks  of  the 
Blent. 

In  the  afternoon  he  had  his  gig  brought  round  and 
set  out  for  Blentmouth.  As  he  passed  Blent  Hall,  he 
saw  a  girl  on  the  bridge — a  girl  in  black  looking  down 
at  the  water.  Lady  Tristram  ?  It  was  strange  to  call 
her  by  the  title  that  had  been  another's.  But  he  sup- 
posed it  must  be  Lady  Tristram.  She  did  not  look  up 
as  he  passed ;  he  retained  a  vision  of  the  slack  dreari- 
ness of  her  pose.  Going  on,  he  met  the  Iver  carriage ; 
Iver  and  Neeld  sat  in  it,  side  by  side ;  they  waved 
their  hands  in  careless  greeting  and  went  on  talking 
earnestly.  On  the  outskirts  of  the  town  he  came  on 
Miss  Swinkerton  and  Mrs  Trumbler  walking  together. 
As  he  raised  his  hat,  a  dim  and  wholly  inadequate  idea 
occurred  to  him  of  the  excitement  into  which  these 
good  ladies  would  soon  be  thrown,  a  foreshadowing  of 
the  wonder,  the  consternation,  the  questionings,  the 
bubbling  emotions  which  were  soon  to  stir  the  quiet 
backwaters  of  the  villas  of  Blentmouth.  For  him- 
self, what  was  he  going  to  do?  He  could  not  tell.  He 
put  up  his  gig  at  the  inn  and  sauntered  out  into  the 
street ;  still  he  could  not  tell.  But  he  wandered  out 
to  Fairholme,  up  to  the  gate,  and  past  it,  and  back  to 
it,  and  past  it  again. 

Now  would  Harry  Tristram  do  that  ?  No  ;  either  he 
would  never  have  come  or  he  would  have  been  inside 
before  this.  Bob's  new  love  of  boldness  did  not  let 
him  consider  whether  this  was  the  happiest  moment 
for  its  display.  Those  learned  in  the  lore  of  such  mat- 
ters would  probably  have  advised  him  to  let  her  alone 

[i8i] 


Tristram   of  Blent 

for  a  few  days,  or  weeks,  or  months,  according  to  the 
subtilty  of  their  knowledge  or  their  views.  Bob  rang 
the  bell. 

Janie  was  not  denied  to  him,  but  only  because  no 
chance  was  given  to  her  of  denying  herself.  A  foot- 
man, unconscious  of  convulsions  external  or  internal, 
showed  him  into  the  morning-room.  But  Janie's  own 
attitude  was  plain  enough  in  her  reception  of  him. 

"  Oh,  Bob,  why  in  the  world  do  you  come  here  to- 
day? Indeed  I  can't  talk  to  you  to-day."  Her  dismay 
was  evident.    "  If  there's  nothing  very  particular " 

"  Well,  you  know  there  is,"  Bob  interrupted. 

She  turned  her  head  quickly  toward  him.  "  I  know 
there  is  ?    What  do  you  mean  ?  " 

"You've  got  Harry  Tristram's  letter,  I  suppose?" 

"  What  do  you  know  of  Harry  Tristram's  letter?  " 

"  I  haven't  seen  it,  but  I  know  what's  in  it  all  the 


same." 


"  How  do  you  know?  " 

"  He  came  up  to  Mingham  to-day  and  told  me." 
Bob  sat  down  by  her,  uninvited ;  certainly  the  belief 
in  boldness  was  carrying  him  far.  But  he  did  not  quite 
anticipate  the  next  development.  She  sprang  up, 
sprang  away  from  his  neighborhood,  crying, 

"  Then  how  dare  you  come  here  to-day  ?  Yes,  I've 
got  the  letter — just  an  hour  ago.  Have  you  come  to 
— to  triumph  over  me  ?  " 

"  What  an  extraordinary  idea !  "  remarked  Bob  in 
the  slow  tones  of  a  genuine  astonishment. 

"  You'd  call  it  to  condole,  I  suppose !  That's  rather 
worse." 

Bob  confined  himself  to  a  long  look  at  her.  It 
brought  him  no  enlightenment. 

"  You   must   see  that  you're  the  very "     She 

broke  of?  abruptly,  and,  turning  away,  began  to  walk 
up  and  down. 

[182] 


The  Very   Same   Day 

"  The  very  what  ?  "  asked  Bob. 

She  turned  and  looked  at  him ;  she  broke  into  a 
peevishly  nervous  laugh.  Anybody  but  Bob — really 
anybody  but  Bob — would  have  known  !  The  laugh  en- 
couraged him  a  little,  which  again  it  had  no  right 
to  do. 

"  I  thought  you'd  be  in  trouble,  and  like  a  bit  of 
cheering  up,"  he  said  with  a  diplomatic  air  that  was 
ludicrously  obvious. 

She  considered  a  moment,  taking  another  turn  about 
the  room  to  do  it. 

"  What  did  Harry  Tristram  say  to  you  ?  " 

"  Oh,  he  told  me  the  whole  thing.  That — that  he's 
chucked  it  up,  you  know." 

"  I  mean  about  me." 

"  He  didn't  say  much  about  you.  Just  that  it  was  all 
ended,  you  know." 

"  Did  he  think  I  should  accept  his  withdrawal  ?  " 

"  Yes,  he  seemed  quite  sure  of  it,"  answered  Bob. 
"  I  had  my  doubts,  but  he  seemed  quite  sure  of  it." 
Apparently  Bob  considered  his  statement  reassuring 


and  comforting. 


(( 


You  had  your  doubts  ?  " 
Yes.    I  thought  perhaps- 


"  You  were  wTong  then,  and  Harry  Tristram  was 
right."  She  flung  the  words  at  him  in  a  fierce  hostility. 
"  Now  he's  not  Lord  Tristram  any  longer,  I  don't  want 
to  marry  him."  She  paused.  "  You  believe  he  isn't, 
don't  you  ?     There's  no  doubt  ?  " 

I  believe  him  all  right.    He's  a  fellow  you  can  rely 


on." 


"But  it's  all  so  strange.  Why  has  he  done  it? 
Well,  that  doesn't  matter.  At  any  rate  he's  right 
about  me." 

Bob  sat  stolidly  in  his  chair.  He  did  not  know  at  all 
what  to  sav,  but  he  did  not  mean  to  go.    He  had  put 

[183] 


Tristram   of  Blent 

no  spoke  in  the  Major's  wheel  yet,  and  to  do  that  was 
his  contract  with  Harry  Tristram,  as  well  as  his  own 
strong  desire. 

"  Have  you  sympathized  —  or  condoled  —  or  tri- 
umphed— enough  ?  "  she  asked  ;  she  was  fierce  still. 

"  I  don't  know  that  I've  had  a  chance  of  saying  any- 
thing much,"  he  observed  with  some  justice. 

"  I  really  don't  see  what  you  can  have  to  say.  What 
is  there  to  say?  " 

"  Well,  there's  just  this  to  say — that  I'm  jolly  glad 
of  it." 

She  was  startled  by  his  blunt  sincerity,  so  startled 
that  she  passed  the  obvious  chance  of  accusing  him  of 
cruelty  toward  Harry  Tristram,  and  thought  only  of 
how  his  words  touched  herself. 

"  Glad  of  it !  Oh,  if  you  knew  how  it  makes  me  feel 
about  myself!  But  you  don't,  or  you'd  never  be  here 
now." 

"  Why  shouldn't  I  be  here  now?  "  He  spoke  slow- 
ly, as  though  he  were  himself  searching  for  any  sound 
reason. 

"  Oh,  it's "     The  power  of  explanation  failed 

her.  People  who  will  not  see  obvious  things  some- 
times hold  a  very  strong  position.  Janie  began  to  feel 
rather  helpless.  "  Do  go.  I  don't  want  anybody  to 
come  and  find  you  here."  She  had  turned  from  com- 
mand to  entreaty. 

"  I'm  jolly  glad,"  he  resumed,  settling  himself  back 
in  his  chair,  "  that  the  business  between  you  and  Harry 
Tristram's  all  over.  It  ought  never  to  have  gone  so 
far,  you  know." 

"  Are  you  out  of  your  mind  to-day.  Bob?  " 

"  And  now,  what  about  the  Major,  Miss  Janie  ?  " 

She  flushed  red  in  indignation,  perhaps  in  guilt  too. 
"  How  dare  you  ?    You've  no  business  to " 

"  I  don't  know  the  right  way  to  say  things,  I  dare 

I184] 


The   Very   Same   Day 

say,"  he  admitted,  but  with  an  abominable  tranquil- 
Hty.  "  Still  I  expect  you  know  what  I  mean  all 
the  same." 

"  Do  you  accuse  me  of  having  encouraged  Major 
Duplay  ?  " 

"  I  should  say  you'd  been  pretty  pleasant  to  him. 
But  it's  not  my  business  to  worry  myself  about  Du- 
play."  ,     ^ 

"  I  wish  you  always  understood  as  well  what  isn  t 
your  business." 

"  And  it  isn't  what  you  have  done  but  what  you're 
going  to  do  that  I'm  interested  in."  He  paused  sev- 
eral moments  and  then  went  on  very  slowly,  "  I  tell 
you  what  it  is.  I'm  not  very  proud  of  myself.  So  if 
you  happen  to  be  feeling  the  same,  why  that's  all 
right,  Miss  Janie.  The  fact  is,  I  let  Harry  Tristram 
put  me  in  a  funk,  you  know.  He  was  a  swell,  and  he's 
got  a  sort  of  way  about  him  too.  But  I'm  hanged  if 
I'm  going  to  be  in  a  funk  of  Duplay."  He  seemed  to 
ask  her  approval  of  the  proposed  firmness  of  his  atti- 
tude. "  I've  been  a  bit  of  an  ass  about  it  all,  I  think," 
he  concluded  with  an  air  of  thoughtful  inquiry. 

The  opening  was  irresistible.  Janie  seized  it  with 
impetuous  carelessness.  "  Yes,  you  have,  you  have  in- 
deed. Only  I  don't  see  why  you  think  it's  over,  I'm 
sure." 

"  Well,  I'm  glad  you  agree  with  me,"  said  he.  But 
he  seemed  now  rather  uncertain  how  he  ought  to  go 
on.  "  That's  what  I  wanted  to  say,"  he  added,  and 
looked  at  her  as  if  he  thought  she  might  give  him  a 
lead. 

The  whole  thing  was  preposterous ;  Janie  was  be- 
wildered. He  had  outraged  all  decency  in  coming  at 
such  a  moment  and  in  talking  like  this.  Then  hav- 
ing got  (by  such  utter  disregard  of  all  decency)  to  a 
point  at  which  he  could  not  possiblv  stop,  he  stopped ! 

[185] 


Tristram  ^  Blent 

He  even  appeared  to  ask  her  to  go  on  for  him !  She 
stood  still  in  the  middle  of  the  room,  looking  at  him 
as  he  sat  squarely  in  his  chair. 

"  Since    you've   said   what   you   wanted  to   say,   I 
should  think  you  might  go." 

"  Yes,    I    suppose    I    might,    but "      He    was 

puzzled.  He  had  said  what  he  wanted  to  say,  or 
thought  he  had,  but  it  had  failed  to  produce  the  situa- 
tion he  had  anticipated  from  it.  If  he  went  now,  leav- 
ing matters  just  as  they  stood,  could  he  be  confident 
that  the  spoke  was  in  the  wheel  ?  Up  to  now  nothing 
was  really  agreed  upon  except  that  he  himself  had  been 
an  ass.  No  doubt  this  was  a  pregnant  conclusion,  but 
Bob  was  not  quite  clear  exactly  how  much  it  involved ; 
while  it  encouraged  him,  it  left  him  still  doubtful. 
"  But  don't  you  think  you  might  tell  me  what  you 
think  about  it  ?  "  he  asked  in  the  end. 

"  I  think  I'm  not  fit  to  live,"  cried  Janie.  "  That's 
what  I  think  about  it.  Bob."  Her  voice  trembled  ;  she 
was  afraid  she  might  cry  soon  if  something  did  not 
happen  to  relieve  the  strain  of  this  interview.  "  And 
you  saw  what  Harry  thought  by  his  sending  me  that 
letter.  The  very  moment  it  happened,  he  sent  me  that 
letter !  " 

"  I  saw  what  he  thought  pretty  well,  anyhow,"  said 
Bob,  smiling  reflectively  again. 

"  Oh,  yes,  if  that  makes  it  any  better  for  me !  " 

"  Well,  if  he's  not  miserable,  I  don't  see  why  you 
need  be." 

"The  things  you  don't  see  would  fill  an  encyclo- 
paedia !  " 

Bob  looked  at  his  watch ;  the  action  seemed  in  the 
nature  of  an  ultimatum ;  his  glance  from  the  watch 
to  Janie  heightened  the  impression. 

"  You've  nothing  more  to  say?  "  he  asked  her. 

"  No.     I  agreed  with  what  you  said — that  you'd 

[i86J 


The   Very   Same   Day 

been — an  ass.  I  don't  know  that  you've  said  anything 
else." 

"  All  right."  He  got  up  and  came  to  her,  holding 
out  his  hand.    "  Good-by  for  the  present,  then." 

She  took  his  hand — and  she  held  it.  She  could  not 
let  it  go.    Bob  allowed  it  to  lie  in  hers. 

"  Oh,  dear  old  Bob,  I'm  so  miserable;  I  hate  my- 
self for  having  done  it,  and  I  hate  myself  worse  for  be- 
ing so  glad  it's  undone.  It  did  seem  best  till  I  did  it. 
No,  I  suppose  I  really  wanted  the  title  and — and  all 
that.  I  do  hate  myself !  And  now — the  very  same 
day — I  let  you " 

"  You  haven't  let  me  do  much,"  he  suggested  con- 
solingly. 

"  Yes,  I  have.     At  least "     She  came  a  little 

nearer  to  him.  He  took  hold  of  her  other  hand.  He 
drew  her  to  him  and  held  her  in  his  arms. 

"  That's  all  right,"  he  remarked,  still  in  tones  of  con- 
solation. 

"  If  anybody  knew  this !  You  won't  say  a  word, 
will  you.  Bob  ?  Not  for  ever  so  long  ?  You  will  pre- 
tend it  was  ever  so  long  before  I — I  mean,  be- 
tween  ?  " 

"  I'll  tell  any  lie,"  said  Bob  very  cheerfully. 

She  laughed  hysterically.  "  Because  I  should  never 
be  able  to  look  people  in  the  face  if  anybody  knew 
that  on  the  very  same  day " 

"  I  should  think  a — a  week  would  be  about  right?  " 

"  A  week!    No,  no.    Six  months." 

"  Oh,  six  months  be " 

"  Well  then,  three?    Do  agree  to  three." 

"  We'll  think  about  three.    Still  miserable,  Janie?  " 

"  Yes,  still — rather.  Now  you  must  go.  Fancy  if 
anybody  came !  " 

"  All  right,  I'll  go.  But,  I  say,  you  might  just  drop 
a  hint  to  the  Major." 

[187] 


Tristram  of  Blent 

"  I  can't  send  him  another  message  that  I'm — that 
I've  done  it  again !  " 

She  drew  a  Httle  away  from  him.  Bob's  hearty 
laugh  rang  out ;  his  latent  sense  of  humor  was  touched 
at  the  idea  of  this  second  communication  to  the  Major. 
For  a  moment  Janie  looked  angry,  for  a  moment  deep- 
ly hurt.  Bob  laughed  still.  There  was  nothing  for 
it  but  to  join  in.  Her  own  laugh  rang  out  gayly  as  he 
caught  her  in  his  arms  again  and  kissed  her. 

"  Oh,  if  anybody  knew !  "  sighed  Janie. 

But  Bob  was  full  of  triumph.  The  task  was  done, 
the  spoke  was  in  the  wheel.  There  was  an  end  of  the 
Major  as  well  as  of  Harry — and  an  end  to  his  own 
long  and  not  very  hopeful  waiting.  He  kissed  his 
love  again. 

There  was  a  sudden  end  to  the  scene  too — startling 
and  sudden.  The  door  of  the  room  opened  abruptly, 
and  in  the  doorway  stood  Mrs  Iver.  Little  need  to 
dilate  on  the  situation  as  it  appeared  to  Mrs  Iver! 
Had  she  known  the  truth,  the  thing  was  bad  enough. 
But  she  knew  nothing  of  Harry  Tristram's  letter. 
After  a  moment  of  consternation  Janie  ran  to  her, 
crying, 

"  I'm  not  engaged  any  more  to  Harry  Tristram, 
mother !  " 

Mrs  Iver  said  nothing.  She  stood  by  the  open  door. 
There  was  no  mistaking  her  meaning.  With  a  shame- 
faced bow,  struggling  with  an  unruly  smile.  Bob 
Broadley  got  through  it  somehow.  Janie  was  left 
alone  with  Mrs  Iver. 

Such  occurrences  as  these  are  very  deplorable.  Al- 
most of  necessity  they  impair  a  daughter's  proper  posi- 
tion of  superiority  and  put  her  in  a  relation  toward  her 
mother  which  no  self-respecting  young  woman  would 
desire  to  occupy.  It  might  be  weeks  before  Janie  Iver 
could  really  assert  her  dignity  again.     It  was  strong 

[i88] 


The   Very   Same   Day 

proof  of  her  afifection  for  Bob  Broadley  that,  consider- 
ing the  matter  in  her  own  room  (she  had  not  been 
exactly  sent  there,  but  a  retreat  had  seemed  advisable) 
she  came  to  the  conchision  that,  taking  good  and  bad 
together,  she  was  on  the  whole  glad  that  he  had 
called. 

But  to  Bob,  with  the  selfishness  of  man,  Mrs  Tver's 
sudden  appearance  wore  rather  an  amusing  aspect.  It 
certainly  could  not  spoil  his  triumph  or  impair  his 
happiness. 


[189I 


XV 

An  Inquisition  Interrupted 

""T^  '  ItTY  mother  told  it  me  just  as  a  bit  of  gossip. 

\ /I  She  didn't  believe  it,  no  more  did  I." 
It  A      "  But  you  repeated  it." 

It  was  Iver  who  was  pressing  her.  He  was  not  now 
the  kind  host  Mina  knew  so  well.  He  was  rather  the 
keen  man  of  business,  impatient  of  shuffling,  incredu- 
lous of  any  action  for  which  he  could  not  see  the  motive, 
distrustful  and  very  shrewd. 

"  Oh,  I  repeated  it  to  my  uncle,  because  I  thought  it 
might  amuse  him — just  for  something  to  say." 

"  Your  idea  of  small  talk  is  rather  peculiar,"  was 
Tver's  dry  comment.  He  looked  at  the  Major  on  his 
right,  and  at  Neeld  on  his  left  at  the  table ;  Mina  was 
opposite,  like  the  witness  before  the  committee. 

"  So  is  yours  of  politeness,"  she  cried.  "  It's  my 
house.    Why  do  you  come  and  bully  me  in  it?  " 

Duplay  was  sullenly  furious.  Poor  Mr  Neeld's  state 
was  lamentable.  He  had  not  spoken  a  word  through- 
out the  interview.  He  had  taken  refuge  in  nodding, 
exhausting  the  significance  of  nods  in  reply  to  the 
various  appeals  that  the  other  three  addressed  to  him. 
If  their  meaning  had  been  developed,  his  nods  must 
have  landed  him  in  a  pitiable  mess  of  inconsistencies ; 
he  had  tried  to  agree  with  everybody,  to  sympathize 
all  round,  to  indorse  universally.  He  had  won  mo- 
mentary applause,  and  in  the  end  created  general  dis- 
satisfaction. 

Iver  had  his  temper  in  hand  still,  but  he  was  hard 
and  resolute. 

"  You  don't  seem  to  understand  the  seriousness  of 

[190] 


An   Inquisition   Interrupted 

the  thing  in  the  least,"  he  said.  "  I've  spoken  plainly 
to  you.  My  daughter's  future  is  at  stake.  You  say 
it  was  all  idle  gossip.  I  find  that  hard  to  believe.  Even 
if  so,  I  must  have  that  gossip  investigated  and  proved 
to  be  nothing  but  gossip." 

"  Investigate  it  then,"  said  the  Imp  peevishly. 

"  You  refuse  me  the  materials.  What  you  told 
Major  Duplay  was  too  vague.  You  know  more.  You 
can  put  me  on  the  track." 

Mina  was  silent.  Neeld  wiped  his  brow  with  his 
handkerchief.    Iver  changed  his  tone. 

"  Mina,  we've  been  friends  to  you.  I'm  not 
ashamed  to  remind  you  of  it.  Janie's  a  great  friend 
of  yours ;  my  wife  and  I  have  welcomed  you  first  for 
her  sake,  then  for  your  own.  Is  this  the  best  return 
you  can  make  us?  Consult  anybody  you  like,  if  you 
think  I'm  prejudiced,  whether  your  conduct  is  honor- 
able, is  square."  He  paused  a  moment.  "  Ask  Mr 
Neeld  here  what  he  would  do.  I'm  wilUng  to  abide  by 
his  judgment." 

Mina  was  sorely  tempted  to  say,  "  Ask  him  then." 
The  situation  would  thus  become  so  much  the  more 
piquant.  But  Mr  Neeld  was  in  such  distress — to  her 
sharp  eyes  a  distress  so  visible — that  she  did  not  dare 
to  risk  the  coup.  If  he  were  let  alone  he  might  keep 
silence  and  quiet  his  conscience  by  the  plea  that  he 
had  been  asked  no  questions.  But  she  did  not  venture 
to  face  him  with  a  demand  for  a  verdict  on  her  conduct ; 
for  her  conduct  was  also  his  own. 

"  I  must  judge  for  myself.  Mr  Neeld  can't  help  me," 
she  answered.  "  Uncle  has  chosen  to  say  he  can  prove 
these  things.  Let  him  try."  She  drew  herself  up  with 
a  prim  prudish  air.  "  I  don't  think  it's  desirable  to 
mix  myself  up  in  such  very  peculiar  questions  at  all, 
and  I  don't  think  it's  nice  of  men  to  come  and  cross- 
question  me  about  them." 

[191] 


Tristram   of  Blent 

''  Oh,  we're  not  in  a  girls'  school,"  said  Iver,  with  a 
touch  of  irritation  hardly  suppressed.  "  We  come  as 
men  of  the  world  to  a  sensible  woman." 

"  Anybody  will  tell  you  I'm  not  that,"  interrupted 
the  Imp. 

"  Well,  then,  to  a  woman  of  good  feeling,  who 
wishes  to  be  honest  and  to  be  true  to  her  friends.  Du- 
play,  have  you  no  influence  with  Madame  Zabriska?  " 

"  I've  spared  no  effort,"  replied  the  Major.  "  I  can't 
believe  that  she  won't  help  us  in  the  end."  His  tone 
was  almost  menacing.  Mina,  remembering  how  he 
had  terrorized  the  secret  out  of  her  before,  and  resent- 
ing the  humiliation  of  the  memory,  stiffened  her  neck 
once  more. 

"  I've  nothing  to  say.  You  must  do  as  you  think 
best,"  she  said. 

"  You  must  be  made  to  speak." 

Iver's  threats  alarmed  where  Duplay's  only  an- 
noyed.    He  spoke  calmly  and  with  weight. 

"  Who  can  make  me  speak  ?  "  she  cried,  more  angry 
from  her  fear. 

■  "  The  law.  When  we  have  reached  a  certain  stage 
in  the  inquiry,  we  shall  be  able  to  compel  you  to 
speak." 

"  I  thought  you  couldn't  move  a  step  without  me?" 

Iver  was  rather  set  back,  but  he  braved  it  out. 

"  The  difficulties  are  immensely  increased,  but 
they're  not  insuperable,"  he  said. 

"  I  shan't  stay  to  be  questioned  and  bullied.  I  shall 
go  abroad." 

Iver  looked  at  the  Major;  the  Major  returned  his 
glance  ;   they  were  both  resolute  men. 

"  No,  you  won't  go  away,"  declared  Iver  slowly. 

The  Imp  was  frightened ;  she  was  an  ignorant 
young  woman  in  a  land  of  whose  laws  she  knew  noth- 
ing.    Neeld  would  have  liked  to  suggest  soinething 

[192] 


An   iNguisiTioN  Interrupted 

soothing  about  the  Hberty  of  the  individual  and  the 
Habeas  Corpus  Act.  But  he  dared  show  no  sympathy 
— beyond  nodding  at  her  unobserved.  The  nod  told 
her  nothing. 

"  You'll  stop  me  ?  "  Still  she  tried  to  sneer  de- 
fiantly. 

Another  glance  passed  between  Tver  and  Duplay. 
A  shrewd  observer  might  have  interpreted  it  as  mean- 
ing, "  Even  if  we  can't  do  it,  she'll  think  we  can." 

"  We  shall,"  said  the  Major,  executing  the  bluff  on 
behalf  of  himself  and  his  partner. 

The  Imp  thought  of  crying — not  for  her  uncle — 
which  would  be  hopeless — but  for  Iver.  She  con- 
cluded it  would  be  hopeless  there  too ;  Iver  would 
not  heed  tears  in  business  hours,  however  tender- 
hearted he  might  be  in  private  life.  So  she  laughed 
again  instead.  But  the  laugh  was  a  failure,  and  Iver 
was  sharp  enough  to  see  it. 

"  In  this  country  people  aren't  allowed  to  play  fast 
and  loose  in  this  fashion,"  he  remarked.  "  I'll  tell  you 
one  way  in  which  we  can  make  you  speak.  I  have  only 
to  go  to  Lord  Tristram  and  tell  him  you  have  spread 
these  reports,  that  you  have  made  and  repeated  these 
imputations  on  his  birth  and  on  his  title.  What  will 
he  do?  Can  he  rest  content  without  disproving  them' 
at  law?  I  say  he  can't.  In  those  proceedings  you 
would  be  compelled  to  speak.  I  must  assume  you 
would  tell  the  truth.  I  refuse  to  suppose  you  would 
commit  perjury." 

"  I  should  hold  my  tongue,"  said  Mina. 

"  Then  you'd  be  sent  to  prison  for  contempt  of 
court." 

The  bluff  worked  well.  Mina  knew  nothing  at  all 
of  what  Harry  Tristram  would  do,  or  might  do,  or 
must  do,  of  what  the  law  would,  or  might,  or  might 
not  do,  in  the  circumstances   supposed.     And   Iver 

[193] 


Tristram  of  Blent 

spoke  as  though  he  knew  everything-,  with  a  weighty 
confidence,  with  an  admirable  air  of  considered 
candor.  She  was  no  match  for  him ;  she  grew  rather 
pale,  her  lips  twitched,  and  her  breath  came  quick. 
Tears  were  no  longer  to  be  treated  merely  as  a  pos- 
sible poHcy;  they  threatened  to  occur  of  their  own 
accord. 

What  wonder  that  a  feeling  of  intolerable  meanness 
attacked  Mr  Jenkinson  Neeld  ?  He  was  on  the  wrong 
side  of  the  table,  on  the  bench  instead  of  in  the  dock. 
He  sat  there  judging ;  his  proper  place  was  side  by 
side  with  the  criminal,  in  charge  of  the  same  police- 
man, wearing  the  handcuffs  too.  And  he  had  less 
excuse  for  his  crime  than  she.  He  was  even  more  in 
Iver's  debt;  he  had  eaten  his  bread  these  weeks  past; 
even  now  he  was  pretending  to  be  his  adviser  and  his 
witness;  his  deception  was  deeper  than  hers.  Be- 
sides he  was  not  a  young  woman  who  might  find  excuse 
in  the  glamour  of  Harry's  position  or  the  attraction  of 
Harry's  eyes;  he  was  not  a  romantic  young  woman; 
he  was  only  a  romantic  old  fool.  He  could  bear  it  no 
longer.  He  must  speak.  He  could  not  get  into  the 
dock  beside  her — for  that  would  throw  away  the  case 
which  she  was  defending  so  gallantly — but  he  must 
speak  a  word  for  her. 

"  In  my  opinion,"  he  said  nervously,  but  not  with- 
out his  usual  precision,  "  we  can  carry  this  matter  no 
further.  Madame  Zabriska  declines  to  speak.  I  may 
say  that  I  understand  and  respect  the  motive  which  I 
believe  inspires  her.  She  regrets  her  idle  words.  She 
thinks  that  by  repeating  them  she  would  give  them 
greater  importance.  She  does  not  wish  to  assume 
responsibility.  She  leaves  the  matter  in  your  hands, 
Iver.  It  is  not  her  affair;  she  had  no  reason  to  sup- 
pose that  it  would  be  yours.  By  a  train  of  events  for 
which  she  is  not  accountable  the  question  has  become 

[194J 


An    Inquisition   Interrupted 

of  importance  to  you.  In  her  view  it  is  for  you  to  take 
your  own  steps.     She  stands  aside." 

"  She's  my  friend,  she's  my  daughter's  friend.  The 
question  is  whether  my  daughter  marries  Lord  Tris- 
tram of  Blent  or  an  impostor  (whether  voluntary  or 
involuntary)  without  a  name,  an  acre,  or,  so  far  as  I 
know,  a  shilling.  She  can  help  me.  She  stands  aside. 
You  think  her  right,  Neeld  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  do,"  said  the  old  gentleman  with  the 
promptness  of  desperation. 

"  Then  your  idea  of  friendship  differs  diametrically 
from  mine.    I  desire  no  such  friends  as  that." 

It  is  to  be  hoped  that  the  sting  of  Iver's  remark  was 
somewhat  mitigated  by  Mina's  covertly  telegraphed 
gratitude.  Yet  Neeld  was  no  happier  after  his  effort 
than  before  it.  A  silence  fell  on  them  all.  Mina 
glanced  from  her  uncle's  face  to  Iver's.  Both  men 
were  stern  and  gloomy.  Her  sense  of  heroism  barely 
supported  her ;  things  were  so  very  uncomfortable. 
If  Harry  could  know  what  she  suffered  for  him,  it 
would  be  something.  But  Mina  had  an  idea  that 
Harry  was  thinking  very  little  about  her.  Moreover, 
in  taking  sides  in  a  controversy,  perhaps  the  most  im- 
portant practical  question  is — whom  has  one  got  to 
live  with?  She  had  to  live  not  with  Harry  Tristram, 
but  with  that  glowering  uncle.  Major  Duplay.  Agree 
with  your  enemy  whiles  you  are  in  the  house  with  him, 
even  more  than  whiles  you  are  in  the  way. 

At  this  point  —  the  deadlock  demanded  by  the 
canons  of  art  having  been  reached  by  the  force  of  cir- 
cumstances and  the  clash  of  wills — enter  the  Dcus  ex 
Machina,  in  the  shape  of  a  pretty  parlormaid  in  a 
black  gown  and  white  apron,  with  a  bow  of  pink  rib- 
bon at  her  neck  ;  instead  of  the  car,  a  silver  salver,  and 
on  it  a  single  letter. 

"  For  you,  ma'am,"  said  the  Dens,  and  with  a  glance 

[195I 


Tristi^am   <?/*  Blent 

at  Neeld  (merely  because  he  was  a  man  and  a  stranger) 
she  ended  her  brief  but  momentous  appearance  on 
the  stage. 

The  Imp  was  in  no  mood  for  ceremony ;  one  glance 
at  the  handwriting,  and  she  tore  the  envelope  open 
eagerly.  Iver  was  whispering  to  Duplay.  Neeld's 
eyes  were  on  the  ceiling,  because  he  did  not  know 
where  else  he  could  direct  them  with  any  sense  of 
safety. 

Mina  read.  A  gasp  of  breath  from  her  brought 
Neeld's  eyes  down  from  their  refuge  and  stayed  Iver 
and  the  Major's  whispered  talk.  She  gazed  from  one 
to  the  other  of  them.  She  had  flushed  red ;  her  face 
was  very  agitated  and  showed  a  great  stress  of  feeling. 
Duplay  with  an  exclamation  of  surprise  put  out  his 
hand  for  the  letter.  But  Mina  kept  hers  on  it,  pinning 
it  immovably  to  the  table.  For  another  minute  she 
sat  there,  facing  the  three.  Then  all  composure  failed 
her ;  she  burst  into  tears,  and  bowing  her  head  to  meet 
her  arms  on  the  table,  covering  the  letter  with  her  hair, 
she  sobbed  violently. 

The  fort  she  had  been  defending  was  betrayed  from 
within.  For  some  reason  unknown,  unguessable, 
the  champion  she  fought  for  had  fled  from  the  fight. 
And  the  few  words  of  his  message — aye,  and  that  he 
should  send  a  message  to  her — pierced  her  to  the 
heart.  Strained  already  by  her  battle,  she  was  broken 
down  by  this  sudden  end  to  it,  this  sudden  and  dis- 
astrous end. 

"  I  can't  help  it,  I  can't  help  it,"  the  men  heard  her 
say  between  her  sobs. 

Her  apology  did  nothing  to  reHeve  their  extreme 
discomfort.  AH  three  felt  brutal ;  even  the  Major's 
face  lost  its  gloomy  fierceness  and  relaxed  into  an  em- 
barrassed solicitude.  "  Ought  we  to  call  the  maid  ?  " 
he  whispered.     "  Poor  child !  "  murmured  Neeld. 

[196] 


An   Inquisition  Interrupted 

The  sobs  dominated  these  timid  utterances.  Was  it 
they  who  had  brought  her  to  this  state,  or  was  it  the 
letter?  Iver  stirred  uneasily  in  his  chair,  his  business 
manner  and  uncharitable  shrewdness  suddenly  seem- 
ing out  of  place.  "  Give  her  time,"  he  said  gently. 
"  Give  her  time,  poor  girl." 

Mina  raised  her  head ;  tears  ran  down  her  cheeks ; 
she  was  woe  personified. 

"  Time's  no  use,"  she  groaned.  "  It's  all  over 
now." 

Neeld  caught  at  the  state  of  affairs  by  an  intuition  to 
which  his  previous  knowledge  helped  him.  Duplay 
had  been  baffled  by  Harry's  diplomacy  and  expected 
no  action  from  his  side.  To  Neeld  such  a  development 
seemed  possible,  and  it  was  the  only  thing  which  to 
his  mind  could  throw  light  on  Mina's  behavior. 

"Won't  you  show  us  the  letter?"  he  asked  gently. 

"  Oh,  yes.  And  I'll  tell  you  anything  you  like  now. 
Tf  doesn't  matter  now."  She  looked  at  Neeld  ;  she  was 
loyal  to  the  end.  "  I  was  the  only  person  who  knew 
it,"  she  said  to  Iver. 

That  was  too  much.  Timid  he  might  be,  even  to  the 
point  of  cowardice;  but  now,  when  the  result  of  con- 
fession would  be  no  harm  to  anybody  but  himself, 
Neeld  felt  he  must  speak  if  he  were  to  have  any 
chance  of  going  on  thinking  himself  a  gentleman — and 
it  is  an  unpleasant  thing  for  a  man  to  realize  that  he  has 
none. 

"  I  must  correct  Madame  Zabriska,"  he  said.  "  I 
knew  it  too." 

"  What  ?  "  cried  Duplay.  Iver  turned  quick  scru- 
tinizing eyes  on  his  friend. 

"  You  knew  too  ?    You  knew  what  ?  "  he  demanded. 

"  The  facts  we  have  been  endeavoring  to  obtain 
from  Madame  Zabriska." 

"  The  facts  about " 

[197] 


Tristram  of  Blent 

"  Oh,  it's  all  in  the  letter,"  cried  Mina  in  a  quick 
burst  of  impatience,    "  There  it  is." 

She  flung  it  across  to  Iver  and  rested  her  chin  on  her 
hands,  while  her  eyes  followed  his  expression  as  he 
read.  Duplay  was  all  excitement,  but  old  Mr  Neeld 
had  sunk  back  in  his  chair  with  a  look  of  fretful  weari- 
ness. Iver  was  deliberate ;  his  glasses  needed  some 
fitting  on ;  the  sheet  of  paper  required  some  smooth- 
ing after  its  contact  with  Mina's  disordered  and  dis- 
ordering hair.  Besides,  he  was  really  as  excited  as 
Duplay  and  almost  as  agitated  as  Mina  herself.  But 
these  emotions  are  not  appropriate  to  business  men. 
So  he  was  very  calm  and  deliberate  in  his  demeanor; 
he  might  have  been  going  to  deliver  a  whole  speech 
from  the  way  he  cleared  his  throat. 

"  I  have  thrown  up  the  sponge  and  fled.  Please 
make  friends  with  Lady  Tristram  of  Blent. — H.  T." 

It  was  enough.  What  need  of  further  witness  ?  And 
if  there  had  been,  the  principal  criminal  had  confessed 
and  the  lips  of  his  accomplices  were  unsealed. 

For  a  while  nobody  spoke.  Then  Neeld,  leaning 
forward  to  the  table  again,  began  to  explain  and  ex- 
cuse his  silence,  to  speak  of  the  hard  case  he  was  in,  of 
the  accidental  and  confidential  character  of  his  knowl- 
edge. Neither  Mina  nor  her  uncle  even  appeared  to 
heed  him.  Iver  seemed  to  listen  patiently  and  cour- 
teously, but  his  mind  too  was  distracted,  and  he  did 
not  cease  fidgeting  with  Harry  Tristram's  letter  and 
referring  ever  and  again  to  its  brief  sufficient  message. 
"  I  dare  say  I  was  wrong.  The  position  was  very 
difficult,"  pleaded  Neeld. 

"  Yes,  yes,"  said  Iver  in  an  absent  tone.  "  Difficult 
no  doubt,  Neeld ;  both  for  you  and  Mina.  And  now 
he  has — he  has  given  up  the  game  himself!  Or  was 
his  hand  forced  ?  " 

"  No,"  flashed  out  Mina,  restored  in  a  moment  to 

[198] 


An   Inquisition  Interrupted 

animation,  her  fighting  instincts  awake  again.  "  He'd 
never  have  been  forced.  He  must  have  done  it  of  his 
own  accord." 

"But  why?"  Again  he  returned  to  the  letter. 
"  And  why  does  he  write  to  you?  " 

"  Because  he  knew  I  knew  about  it.  He  didn't 
know  that  Mr  Neeld  did." 

"  And  this — this  Lady  Tristram  of  Blent  ?  "  Iver's 
voice  was  hesitating  and  conscious  as  he  pronounced 
>he  name  that  was  to  have  become  his  daughter's. 

Again  the  pink-ribboned  Dens  made  entry  on  the 
scene,  to  give  the  speaker  a  more  striking  answer. 

"  A  lady  to  see  you,  ma'am.    Miss  Gainsborough." 

The  three  men  sprang  to  their  feet ;  with  a  sudden 
■wrench  Mina  turned  her  chair  round  toward  the  door. 
A  tall  slim  girl  in  black  came  in  with  a  quick  yet  hesi- 
tating step. 

"  Forgive  me,  Madame  Zabriska.  But  I  had  to 
come.  Harry  said  you  were  his  friend.  Do  you  know 
anything  about  him?  Do  you  know  where  he  is?" 
She  looked  at  the  men  and  blushed  as  she  returned 
their  bow  with  a  hurried  recognition. 

"  No,  I  haven't  seen  him.  I  know  nothing,"  said 
Mina. 

"  The  letter,  Mina,"  Duplay  reminded  her,  and  Mina 
held  it  out  to  Cecily. 

Cecily  came  forward,  took  and  read  it.  She  looked 
again  at  the  group,  evidently  puzzled. 

"  He  doesn't  say  where  he's  gone,''  she  said. 

"You  are ?"     Tver  began. 

"  I'm  Cecily  Gainsborough.  But  I  think  he  means 
me  when  he  says  Lady  Tristram  of  Blent." 

"  Yes,  he  must  mean  you.  Miss  Gainsborough." 

"  Yes,  because  last  night  he  told  me — it  was  so 
strange,  but  he  wouldn't  have  done  it  unless  it  was 
true — he  told  me  that  he  wasn't  Lord  Tristram  really, 

[199] 


Tristram  (9/^  Blent 

and  that  I "     Her  eyes  travelled  quickly  over  their 

faces,  and  she  re-read  the  letter.  "  Do  you  know  any- 
thing about  it?"  she  demanded  imperiously.  "Tell 
me,  do  you  know  what  he  means  by  this  letter  and 
whether  what  he  says  is  true  ?  " 

"  We  know  what  he  means,"  answered  Iver  gravely, 
"  and  we  know  that  it's  true." 

"  Have  you  known  it  long?  "  she  asked. 

Iver  glanced  at  Duplay  and  Neeld.  It  was  Neeld 
who  answered  gently :    "  Some  of  us  have  been  sure 

of  it  for  some  time.     But "     He  looked  at  Mina 

before  he  went  on.    "  But  we  didn't  intend  to  speak." 

Cecily  stood  there,  seeming  to  consider  and  for  a 
moment  meeting  Mina's  intense  gaze  which  had  never 
left  her  face, 

"  Had  he  known  for  long?  "  was  her  next  question. 

It  met  with  no  immediate  answer.  Duplay  rose 
abruptly  and  walked  to  the  mantelpiece ;  he  leant  his 
arm  on  it  and  turned  half  away  from  the  group  at  the 
table. 

"  Had  he  known  for  long?  "  Cecily  repeated. 

"  Ever  so  long,"  answered  Mina  Zabriska  in  a  low 
voice,  but  very  confidently. 

"Ah,  he  was  waiting  till  Lady  Tristram  died?" 

Iver  nodded ;  he  thought  what  she  suggested  a  very 
good  explanation  to  accept.  It  was  plausible  and 
sensible ;  it  equipped  Harry  Tristram  with  a  decent 
excuse  for  his  past  silence,  and  a  sound  reason  for  the 
moment  of  his  disclosure.  He  looked  at  Neeld  and 
found  ready  acquiescence  in  the  old  gentleman's  ap- 
proving nod.    But  Mina  broke  out  impatiently — 

"  No,  no,  that  had  nothing  to  do  with  it.  He  never 
meant  to  speak.  Blent  was  all  the  world  to  him.  He 
never  meant  to  speak."  A  quick  remembrance  flashed 
across  her.  "  Were  you  with  him  in  the  Long  Gallery 
last  night  ?  "  she  cried.    "  With  him  there  for  hours  ?  " 

[200] 


An  iNguisiTioN   Interrupted 

"  Yes,  we  were  there." 

"  Yes,  I  saw  you  from  the  terrace  here.  Did  he  tell 
you  there?  " 

"  He  told  me  there."  There  was  embarrassment  as 
well  as  wonder  in  her  manner  now. 

"  Well  then,  you  must  know  why  he  told  you.  We 
don't  know."    Mina  was  very  peevish. 

"  Is  it  any  use  asking ?  "  Iver  began.  An  uncere- 
moniously impatient  and  peremptory  wave  of  Mina's 
arm  reduced  him  to  silence.  Her  curiosity  left  no 
room  for  his  prudent  counsels  of  reticence. 

"  What  were  you  doing  in  the  Gallery  ?  "  demanded 
Mina. 

"  I  was  looking  at  all  the  things  there  and — and  ad- 
miring them.  He  came  up  presently  and — I  don't  re- 
member that  he  said  very  much.  He  watched  me ;  then 
he  asked  me  if  I  loved  the  things.  And — well,  then  he 
told  me.  He  told  me  and  went  straight  out  of  the 
room.  I  waited  a  long  while,  but  he  didn't  come  back, 
and  I  haven't  spoken  to  him  since."  She  looked  at 
each  of  them  in  turn  as  though  someone  might  be 
able  to  help  her  with  the  puzzle. 

"  Somehow  you  made  him  do  it — you,"  said  Mina 
Zabriska. 

Slowly  Cecily's  eyes  settled  on  Mina's  face;  thus 
she  stood  silent  for  a  full  minute. 

"  Yes,  I  think  so.  I  think  I  must  have  somehow." 
Her  voice  rose  as  she  asked  with  a  sudden  access  of 
agitation,  "  But  what  are  we  to  do  now?  " 

Mina  had  no  thought  for  that ;  it  was  the  thing  itself 
that  engrossed  her,  not  the  consequences. 

"  There  will,  of  course,  be  a  good  many  formalities," 
said  Iver.  "  Subject  to  those,  I  imagine  that  the — er — 
question  settles  itself." 

His  phrase  seemed  to  give  Cecily  no  enHghtenment. 

"  Settles  itself?  "  she  repeated. 

[201] 


Tristram  of  Blent 

"  Subject  to  formal  proof,  I  mean,  and  in  the  absence 
of  opposition  from"  (he  hesitated  a  second)  " — from 
Mr  Tristram,  which  can't  be  anticipated  now,  you  will 
be  put  into  possession  of  the  estates  and  the  title."  He 
pointed  to  Harry's  letter  which  was  still  in  her  hands. 
"  You  see  what  he  himself  calls  you  there.  Miss  Gains- 
borough." 

She  made  no  answer.  With  another  glance  at  Neeld, 
Iver  pushed  back  his  chair  and  rose.  Neeld  followed 
his  example.  They  felt  that  the  interview  had  better 
end.  Duplay  did  not  move,  and  Cecily  stood  where  she 
was.  She  seemed  to  ask  what  was  to  be  done  with  her ; 
her  desolation  was  sad,  but  it  had  something  of  the 
comic  in  it.    She  was  so  obviously  lost. 

"  You  might  walk  down  to  Blent  with  Miss  Gains- 
borough, Mina,"  Iver  suggested. 

"  No,"  cried  the  Imp  in  a  passion,  leaping  up  from 
her  chair.  "  I  don't  want  to  have  anything  to  do  with 
her." 

Cecily  started  and  her  cheeks  flushed  red  as  though 
she  had  been  struck.    Iver  looked  vexed  and  ashamed. 

"  It's  all  her  fault  that  Harry  Tristram's — that  Harry 

Tristram's "     The  Imp's  voice  was  choked  ;  she 

could  get  no  further. 

Old  Mr  Neeld  came  forward.  He  took  Harry's  let- 
ter from  Cecily  and  gave  it  to  Mina. 

"  My  dear,  my  dear !  "  he  said  gently,  as  he  patted  her 
hand.    "  Read  that  again." 

Mina  read,  and  then  scrutinized  Cecily  keenly. 

"  Well,  I'll  walk  down  with  you,"  she  said  grudging- 
ly. She  came  nearer  to  Cecily.  "  I  wonder  what  you 
did !  "  she  exclaimed,  scanning  her  face.  "  I  must  find 
out  what  you  did  !  " 

Iver  came  forward.  "  I  must  introduce  myself  to  you, 
Miss  Gainsborough,  I  live  at  Blentmouth,  and  my 
name  is  Iver." 

[202] 


An  Inquisition   Interrupted 


« 


Iver !  "  She  looked  at  him  curiously.  At  once  he 
felt  that  she  had  knowledge  of  the  relation  between  his 
daughter  and  Harry  Tristram. 

"  Yes,  and  since  we  shall  probably  be  neighbors " 

He  held  out  his  hand.  She  put  hers  into  it,  still  with 
a  bewildered  air.  Neeld  contented  himself  with  a  bow 
as  he  passed  her,  and  Duplay  escaped  from  the  room 
with  a  rapidity  and  stillness  suggestive  of  a  desire  not  to 
be  observed.  When  the  men  were  gone  Cecily  sank 
into  a  chair  and  covered  her  face  with  her  hands  for  a 
minute.  She  looked  up  to  find  Mina  regarding  her, 
still  with  mingled  inquisitiveness  and  hostility. 

"  What  were  you  all  doing  here  when  I  came  ?  "  asked 
Cecily. 

"  They  were  trying  to  make  me  tell  what  I  knew 
about  Harry  Tristram.    But  I  wouldn't  tell." 

"  Wouldn't  you  ?  "  Cecily's  eyes  sparkled  in  sudden 
approval,  and  she  broke  into  a  smile.  "  I  Hke  you  for 
that,"  she  cried.    "  I  wouldn't  have  told  either." 

"  But    now ! "      The    Imp    pouted    disconsolately. 

"  Well,  it's  not  your  fault,  I  suppose,  and "     She 

walked  up  to  Cecily  and  gave  her  a  brief  but  friendly 
kiss.  "  And  you  needn't  be  so  upset  as  all  that  about 
it.    We'll  just  talk  over  what  we'd  better  do." 

There  was  not  much  prospect  of  their  talk  afifecting 
either  the  laws  of  England  or  the  determination  of 
Harry  Tristram  to  any  appreciable  extent.  But  the 
proposal  seemed  to  comfort  Cecily ;  and  the  Imp  rang 
the  bell  for  tea.  Coming  back  from  this  task,  she  gave 
Cecily  a  critical  glance. 

"  You'll  look  it  anyhow,"  she  concluded  with  a  re- 
luctant smile. 

Meanwhile  Iver  and  Nccld  drove  back  to  Blent- 
mouth.  Ivor  said  nothing  about  his  friend's  bygone 
treachery ;  oddly  enough  it  was  not  in  the  culprit's 
mind  either. 

[203] 


Tristram  <9/'Blent 

"  Now,  Neeld,  to  break  this  news  to  Janie !  "  said 
Iver. 

Neeld  nodded  once  again. 

But  of  course  a  situation  quite  other  than  they  ex- 
pected awaited  them  at  Fairholme. 


[204] 


XVI 

The    New    Life 

""^  TOU  haven't  mentioned  it  to  the  young  man  him- 

^f  self  ?  "  asked  Lady  Evenswood. 
M  "  Certainly  not.  I've  only  seen  him  once,  and 
then  he  didn't  talk  of  his  own  affairs.  He  takes  the 
thing  very  well.  He's  lost  his  position  and  he's  the 
hero  of  the  newspapers,  and  he  bears  both  afflictions 
quite  coolly.    A  lad  of  good  balance,  I  think." 

"  Is  he  agreeable?  " 

"  Hum,  I'm  not  sure  of  that.  No  excess  of  modesty, 
I  fancy." 

"  I  suppose  you  mean  he's  not  shy?  All  young  men 
are  conceited.  I  think  I  should  like  you  to  bring  him  to 
see  me." 

For  forty  years  such  an  intimation  from  Lady  Evens- 
wood  had  enjoyed  the  rank  of  a  command  ;  Lord  South- 
end received  it  with  proper  obedience. 

"  The  solution  I  spoke  of  has  occurred  to  some  of 
us,"  he  went  on.  "  He's  poor  now,  but  with  that  he 
could  make  a  marriage.  The  case  is  very  excep- 
tional  " 

"  So  is  what  you  propose,  George." 

"  Oh,  there  are  precedents.  It  was  done  in  the  Bears- 
dale  case." 

"  There  was  a  doubt  there."  Lady  Evenswood  knew 
all  about  the  Bearsdale  case ;  though  it  was  ancient 
history  to  Southend,  she  had  danced  with  both  the  par- 
ties to  it. 

"The  House  was  against  the  marriage  unanimously." 
But  he  did  not  deny  the  doubt. 

"  Well,  what  are  you  going  to  do?  "  she  asked. 

[205] 


Tristram  of  Blent 

"  It  would  be  necessary  to  approach  Disney."  South- 
end spoke  with  some  appearance  of  timidity.  Mr  Dis- 
ney was  Prime  Minister.  "  And  the  truth  is,  none  of 
us  seemed  to  Uke  the  job.  So  John  Fullcombe  sug- 
gested you." 

"  What  brave  men  you  are ! "  Her  face  wrinkled 
humorously. 

"  Well,  he  might  bite  us,  and  he  couldn't  bite  you — 
not  so  hard  anyhow." 

"  And  you  want  me  to  ask  for  a  higher  rank !  That 
wasn't  done  in  the  Bearsdale  case,  nor  in  any  other  that 
I  ever  heard  of." 

"  We  shouldn't  press  that.  A  barony  would  do.  But 
if  Disney  thought  that  under  the  very  exceptional  cir- 
cumstances a  viscounty " 

-*  I  don't  see  why  you  want  it,"  she  persisted.  The 
slight  embarrassment  in  Southend's  manner  stirred  the 
old  lady's  curiosity.    "  It's  rather  odd  to  reward  a  man 

for  his  mother's .    There,  I  don't  say  a  word  about 

Addie.    I  took  her  to  her  first  ball,  poor  girl." 

"  Disney  used  to  know  her  as  a  girl." 

"  If  you're   relying  on   Robert   Disney's   romantic 

memories "    But  she  stopped,  adding  after  a  pause, 

"  Well,  one   never   knows.     But   again,   why   a   vis- 
county ?  " 

Driven  into  a  corner,  but  evidently  rather  ashamed  of 
himself,  Southend  explained. 

"  The  viscounty  would  be  more  convenient  if  a  match 
came  about  between  him  and  the  girl." 

"  What,  the  new  Lady  Tristram  ?  Well,  George, 
romance  has  taken  possession  of  you  to-day !  " 

"  Not  at  all,"  he  protested  indignantly.  "  It's  the 
obviously  sensible  way  out." 

"  Then  they  can  do  it  without  a  viscounty." 

"  Oh,  no,  not  without  something.  There's  the  past, 
you  see." 

[206] 


The   New   Life 

"And  a  sponge  is  wanted?  And  the  bigger  the 
sponge  the  better?  And  I'm  to  get  my  nose  bitten  off 
by  asking  Robert  Disney  for  it  ?  And  if  by  a  miracle 
he  said  yes,  for  all  I  know  somebody  else  might  say 
no!" 

This  dark  reference  to  the  Highest  Quarters  caused 
Southend  to  nod  thoughtfully:  they  discussed  the 
probable  attitude — a  theme  too  exalted  to  be  more  than 
mentioned  here.  "  Anyhow  the  first  thing  is  to  sound 
Disney,"  continued  Southend. 

"  I'll  think  about  it  after  I've  seen  the  young  man," 
Lady  Evenswood  promised.  "  Have  you  any  reason  to 
suppose  he  likes  his  cousin?  " 

"  None  at  all — except,  of  course,  the  way  he's  cleared 
out  for  her." 

"  Yielding  gracefully  to  necessity,  I  suppose?  " 

"  Really,  I  doubt  the  necessity ;  and,  anyhow,  the 
gracefulness  needs  some  explanation  in  a  case  like  this. 
Still  I  always  fancied  he  was  going  to  marry  another 
girl,  a  daughter  of  a  friend  of  mine — Iver — you  know 
who  I  mean?  " 

"  Oh,  yes.  Bring  Harry  Tristram  to  see  me,"  said 
she.    "  Good-by,  George.    You're  looking  very  well." 

"  And  you're  looking  very  young." 

"  Oh,  I  finished  getting  old  before  you  were  forty." 

A  thought  struck  Southend.  "  You  might  suggest 
the  viscounty  as  contingent  on  the  marriage." 

"  I  shan't  suggest  anything  till  I've  seen  the  boy — 
and  I  won't  promise  to  then." 

Later  in  the  afternoon  Southend  dropped  in  at  the 
Imperium,  where  to  his  surprise  and  pleasure  he  found 
Iver  in  the  smoking-room.  Asked  how  he  came  to  be 
in  town,  Iver  explained  : 

"  I  really  ran  awav  from  the  cackling  down  at  Blent- 
mouth.  All  our  old  ladies  arc  talking  fifteen  to  the 
dozen  about  Harry  Tristram,  and  Lady  Tristram,  and 

[207] 


Tristram  y'' Blent 

me,  and  my  family,  and — well,  I  dare  say  you're  in  it  by 
now,  Southend !  There's  an  old  cat  named  Swinker- 
ton,  who  is  positively  beyond  human  endurance;  she 
waylays  me  in  the  street.  And  Mrs  Trumbler,  the 
vicar's  wife,  comes  and  talks  about  Providence  to  my 
poor  wife  every  day.    So  I  fled." 

"  Leaving  your  wife  behind,  I  suppose  ?  " 

"  Oh,  she  doesn't  mind  Mrs  Trumbler.     But  I  do." 

"  Well,  there's  a  good  deal  of  cackling  up  here  too. 
But  tell  me  about  the  new  girl."  Lord  Southend  did 
not  appear  to  consider  his  own  question  "  cackling  "  or 
as  tending  to  produce  the  same. 

"  I've  only  seen  her  once.  She's  in  absolute  seclusion 
and  lets  nobody  in  except  Mina  Zabriska — a  funny  little 
foreign  woman — You  don't  know  her." 

"  I  know  about  her,  I  saw  it  in  the  paper.  She  had 
something  to  do  with  it  ?  " 

"  Yes."  Iver  passed  away  from  that  side  of  the  sub- 
ject immediately.  "  And  she's  struck  up  a  friendship 
with  Cecily  Gainsborough — Lady  Tristram,  I  ought  to 
say.  I  had  a  few  words  with  the  father.  The  poor  old 
chap  doesn't  know  whether  he's  on  his  head  or  his 
heels ;  but  as  they're  of  about  equal  value,  I  should 
imagine,  for  thinking  purposes,  it  doesn't  much  matter. 
Ah,  here's  Neeld.    He  came  up  with  me." 

The  advent  of  Neeld  produced  more  discussion.  Yet 
Southend  said  nothing  of  the  matter  which  he  had 
brought  to  Lady  Evenswood's  attention.  Discretion 
was  necessary  there.  Besides  he  wished  to  know  how 
the  land  lay  as  to  Janie  Iver.  On  that  subject  his  friend 
preserved  silence. 

"  And  the  whole  thing  was  actually  in  old  Joe's 
diary  !  "  exclaimed  Southend. 

Neeld,  always  annoyed  at  the  "  Joe,"  admitted  that 
the  main  facts  had  been  recorded  in  Mr  Cholderton's 
Journal,  and  that  he  himself  had  known  them  when 

[208] 


The   New   Life 

nobody  else  in  England  did — save,  of  course,  the  con- 
spirators themselves. 

"  And  you  kept  it  dark  ?  I  didn't  know  you  were  as 
deep  as  that,  Neeld."  He  looked  at  the  old  gentleman 
with  great  amazement. 

"  Neeld  was  in  an  exceedingly  difficult  position,"  said 
Iver.  "  I've  come  to  see  that."  He  paused,  looking  at 
Southend  with  an  amused  air.  "  You  introduced  us  to 
one  another,"  he  reminded  him  with  a  smile. 

"  Bless  my  soul,  so  I  did !  I'd  forgotten.  Well,  it 
seems  my  fate  too  to  be  mixed  up  in  the  affair."  Just 
at  present,  however,  he  was  assisting  fate  rather  ac- 
tively. 

"  It's  everybody's.  The  Blent's  on  fire  from  Ming- 
ham  to  the  sea." 

"  I've  seen  Harry  Tristram." 

"  Ah,  how  is  he  ?  "  asked  Neeld. 

"  Never  saw  a  young  man  more  composed  in  all  my 
life.  And  he  couldn't  be  better  satisfied  with  himself  if 
he'd  turned  out  to  be  a  duke." 

"  We  know  Harry's  airs,"  Iver  said,  smiling  indul- 
gently. "  But  there's  stuff  in  him."  A  note  of  regret 
came  into  his  voice.  "  He  treated  me  very  badly — I 
know  Neeld  won't  admit  it,  but  he  did.  Still  I  like 
him  and  I'd  help  him  if  I  could." 

"  Well,  he  atoned  for  anything  wrong  by  owning  up 
in  the  end,"  remarked  Southend. 

"  That  wasn't  for  my  sake  or  for Well,  it  had 

nothing  to  do  with  us.  As  far  as  we  were  concerned 
he'd  be  at  Blent  to-day.  It  was  Cecily  Gainsborough 
who  did  it." 

"Yes.    I  wonder " 

Iver  rose  decisively.  "  Look  here,  Southend,  if 
you're  going  to  do  exactly  what  all  my  friends  and 
neighbors,  beginning  with  Miss  Swinkcrton,  arc  doing, 
I  shall  go  and  write  letters."    With  a  nod  he  walked 

[209] 


Tristram  of  Blent 

into  the  next  room,  leaving  Neeld  alone  with  his  in- 
quisitive friend.    Southend  lost  no  time. 

"What's  happened  about  Janie  Iver?  There  was 
some  talk " 

"  It's  all  over,"  whispered  Neeld  with  needless  cau- 
tion.   "  He  released  her,  and  she  accepted  the  release." 

"  What,  on  the  ground  that ?  " 

"  Really  I  don't  know  any  more.  But  it's  finally 
over;  you  may  depend  upon  that." 

Southend  lit  a  cigar  with  a  satisfied  air.  On  the 
whole  he  was  glad  to  hear  the  news. 

"  Staying  much  longer  in  town  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  No,  I'm  going  down  to  Tver's  again  in  August." 

"  You  want  to  see  the  end  of  it  ?  Come,  I  know  that's 
it !  "    He  laughed  as  he  walked  away. 

Meanwhile  Harry  Tristram,  unconscious  of  the  ef- 
forts which  were  being  made  to  arrange  his  future,  and 
paying  as  little  attention  as  he  could  to  the  buzz  of  gos- 
sip about  his  past,  had  settled  down  in  quiet  rooms  and 
was  looking  at  the  world  from  a  new  point  of  view.  He 
was  in  seclusion  like  his  cousin ;  the  mourning  they 
shared  for  Addie  Tristram  was  sufficient  excuse ;  and 
he  found  his  chief  pleasure  in  wandering  about  the 
streets.  The  season  was  not  over  yet,  and  he  liked  to 
go  out  about  eight  in  the  evening  and  watch  the  great 
city  starting  forth  to  enjoy  itself.  Then  he  could  feel 
its  life  in  all  the  rush  and  the  gayety  of  it.  Somehow 
now  he  seemed  more  part  of  it  and  more  at  home  in  it 
than  when  he  used  to  run  up  for  a  few  days  from  his 
country  home.  Then  Blent  had  been  the  centre  of  his 
life,  and  in  town  he  was  but  a  stranger  and  a  sojourner. 
Blent  was  gone ;  and  London  is  home  to  homeless 
men.  There  was  a  suggestion  for  him  in  the  air  of  it, 
an  impulse  that  was  gradually  but  strongly  urging  him 
to  action,  telling  him  that  he  must  begin  to  do.  For 
the  moment  he  was  notorious,  but  the  talk  and  the  star- 

[2ioj 


The  New  Life 

ing  would  be  over  soon — the  sooner  the  better,  he 
added  most  sincerely.  Then  he  must  do  something  if 
he  wished  still  to  be,  or  ever  again  to  be,  anybody. 
Otherwise  he  could  expect  no  more  than  to  be  pointed 
out  now  and  then  to  the  curious  as  the  man  who  had 
once  been  Tristram  of  Blent  and  had  ceased  to  be  such 
in  a  puzzling  manner. 

As  he  looked  back,  he  seemed  to  himself  to  have  lived 
hitherto  on  the  banks  of  the  river  of  life  as  well  as  of  the 
river  Blent ;  there  had  been  no  need  of  swimming. 
But  he  was  in  the  current  now ;  he  must  swim  or  sink. 
This  idea  took  shape  as  he  watched  the  carriages,  the 
lines  of  scampering  hansoms,  the  crowds  waiting  at 
theatre  doors.  Every  man  and  every  vehicle,  every 
dandy  and  every  urchin,  represented  some  effort,  if 
it  were  only  at  one  end  of  the  scale  to  be  magnificent, 
at  the  other  not  to  be  hungry.  No  such  notions  had 
been  fostered  bv  days  spent  on  the  banks  of  the  Blent. 
"  What  shall  I  do?  What  shall  I  do?  "  The  question 
hummed  in  his  brain  as  he  walked  about.  There  were 
such  infinite  varieties  of  things  to  do,  such  a  multitude 
of  people  doing  them.  To  some  men  this  reflection 
brings  despair  or  bewilderment ;  to  Harry  (as  indeed 
Lord  Southend  would  have  expected  from  his  observa- 
tion of  him)  it  was  a  titillating  evidence  of  great  op- 
portunities, stirring  his  mind  to  a  busy  consideration 
of  chances.  Thus  then  it  seemed  as  though  Blent 
might  fall  into  the  background,  his  loved  Blent.  Per- 
haps his  not  thinking  of  it  had  begun  in  wilfulness, 
or  even  in  fear ;  but  he  found  the  rule  he  had  made 
far  easier  to  keep  than  he  had  ever  expected.  There 
had  been  a  sort  of  release  for  his  mind ;  he  had  not 
foreseen  this  as  a  possible  result  of  his  great  sacrifice. 
He  even  felt  rather  richer ;  which  seemed  a  strange 
paradox,  till  he  reflected  that  the  owners  of  Blent  had 
seldom  been  able  to  lay  hands  readily  on  a  fluid  sum 

[211] 


Tristram   of  Blent 

of  fifteen  thousand  pounds,  subject  to  no  claims  for 
houses  to  be  repaired,  buildings  to  be  maintained, 
cottages  to  be  built,  wages  to  be  paid,  and  the  dozen 
other  ways  in  which  money  disperses  itself  over  the 
surface  of  a  landed  estate.  He  had  fifteen  thousand 
pounds  in  form  as  good  as  cash.  He  was  living.more 
or  less  as  he  had  once  meant  to  live  in  this  one  par- 
ticular ;  he  was  living  with  a  respectable  if  not  a  big 
check  by  him,  ready  for  any  emergency  which  might 
arise — an  emergency  not  now  of  a  danger  to  be  warded 
off,  but  of  an  opportunity  to  be  seized. 

These  new  thoughts  suited  well  with  the  visit  which 
he  paid  to  Lady  Evenswood  and  gained  fresh  strength 
from  it.  His  pride  and  independence  had  made  him 
hesitate  about  going.  Southend,  amazed  yet  half  ad- 
miring, had  been  obliged  to  plead,  reminding  him  that 
it  was  not  merely  a  woman  nor  merely  a  woman  of 
rank  who  wished  to  make  his  acquaintance,  but  also 
a  very  old  woman  who  had  known  his  mother  as  a  child. 
He  further  offered  his  own  company,  so  that  the  inter- 
view might  assume  a  less  formal  aspect.  Harry  de- 
clined the  company  but  yielded  to  the  plea.  He  was 
announced  as  Mr  Tristram.  He  had  just  taken  steps 
to  obtain  a  Royal  License  to  bear  the  name.  Southend 
had  chuckled  again  half  admiringly  over  that. 

Although  the  room  was  in  deep  shadow  and  very 
still,  and  the  old  white-haired  lady  the  image  of  peace, 
for  Harry  there  too  the  current  ran  strong.  Though 
not  great,  she  had  known  the  great ;  if  she  had  not  done 
the  things,  she  had  seen  them  done ;  her  talk  revealed 
a  matter-of-course  knowledge  of  secrets,  a  natural  in- 
timacy with  the  inaccessible.  It  was  Hke  Harry  to 
show  no  signs  of  being  impressed  ;  but  very  shrewd  eyes 
were  upon  him,  and  his  impassivity  met  with  amused 
approval  since  it  stopped  short  of  inattention.  She 
broke  it  down  at  last  by  speaking  of  Addie  Tristram. 

[212] 


The  New   Life 

"  The  most  fascinating  creature  in  the  world,"  she 
said.  "  I  knew  her  as  a  little  girl.  I  knew  her  up  to 
the  time  of  your  birth  almost.  After  that  she  hardly 
left  Blent,  did  she  ?  At  least  she  never  came  to  Lon- 
don.   You  travelled,  I  know." 

"  Were  you  ever  at  Blent  ?  "  he  asked. 

"No,  Mr  Tristram." 

He  frowned  for  a  moment ;  it  was  odd  not  to  be  able 
to  ask  people  there,  just  too  as  he  was  awaking  to  the 
number  of  people  there  were  in  the  world  worth  asking. 

"  There  never  was  anybody  in  the  world  like  her,  and 
there  never  will  be,"  Lady  Evensvvood  went  on. 

"  I  used  to  think  that ;  but  I  was  wrong."  The  smile 
that  Mina  Zabriska  knew  came  on  his  face. 

"  You  were  wrong?     Who's  like  her  then?  " 

"  Her  successor.     My  cousin  Cecily's  very  like  her." 

Lady  Evenswood  was  more  struck  by  the  way  he 
spoke  than  by  the  meaning  of  what  he  said.  She  wanted 
to  say  "  Bravo,"  and  to  pat  him  on  the  back ;  he  had 
avoided  so  entirely  any  hesitation  or  affectation  in  nam- 
ing his  cousin — Addie  Tristram's  successor  who  had 
superseded  him. 

"  She  talks  and  moves  and  sits  and  looks  at  you  in 
the  same  way.  I  was  amazed  to  see  it."  He  had  said 
not  a  word  of  this  to  anybody  since  he  left  Blent.  Lady 
Evenswood,  studying  him  very  curiously,  began  to 
make  conjectures  about  the  history  of  the  affair,  also 
about  what  lay  behind  her  visitor's  composed  face ; 
there  was  a  hint  of  things  suppressed  in  his  voice.  But 
he  had  the  bridle  on  himself  again  in  a  moment.  "  Very 
curious  these  likenesses  are,"  he  ended  with  a  shrug. 

She  decided  that  he  was  remarkable,  for  a  boy  of  his 
age,  bred  in  the  country,  astonishing.  She  had  heard 
her  father  describe  Pitt  at  twenty-one  and  Byron  at 
eighteen.  Without  making  absurd  comparisons,  there 
was,  all  the  same,  something  of  that  precocity  of  man- 

[213] 


Tristram   ^  Blent 

hood  here,  something  also  of  the  arrogance  that  the 
great  men  had  exhibited.  She  was  very  glad  that  she 
had  sent  for  him. 

"  I  don't  want  to  be  impertinent,"  she  said  (she  had 
not  meant  to  make  even  this  much  apology),  "  but  per- 
haps an  old  woman  may  tell  you  that  she  is  very  sorry 
for — for  this  turn  in  your  fortunes,  Mr  Tristram." 

"  You're  very  kind.  It  was  all  my  own  doing,  you 
know.     Nobody  could  have  touched  me." 

"  But  that  would  have  meant ?"  she  exclaimed, 

startled  into  candor. 

"  Oh,  yes,  I  know.  Still  —  but  since  things  have 
turned  out  differently,  I  needn't  trouble  you  with  that." 

She  saw  the  truth,  seeming  to  learn  it  from  the  set 
of  his  jaw.  She  enjoyed  a  man  who  was  not  afraid 
to  defy  things,  and  she  had  been  heard  to  lament  that 
everybody  had  a  conscience  nowadays — nay,  insisted 
on  bringing  it  even  into  politics.  She  wanted  to  hear 
more — much  more  now — about  his  surrender,  and  rec- 
ognized as  a  new  tribute  to  Harry  the  fact  that  she 
could  not  question  him.  Immediately  she  conceived 
the  idea  of  inviting  him  to  dinner  to  meet  Mr  Disney ; 
but  of  course  that  must  wait  for  a  little  while. 

"  Everything  must  seem  rather  strange  to  you?  "  she 
suggested. 

"  Yes,  very,"  he  answered  thoughtfully.  "  I'm  be- 
ginning to  think  that  some  day  I  shall  look  back  on  my 
boyhood  with  downright  incredulity.  I  shan't  seem  to 
have  been  that  boy  in  the  least." 

"  What  are  you  going  to  do  in  the  meantime,  to  pro- 
cure that  feeling?  "  She  was  getting  to  the  point  she 
wished  to  arrive  at,  but  very  cautiously. 

"  I  don't  know  yet.     It's  hard  to  choose," 

"  You  certainly  won't  want  for  friends." 

"  Yes,  that's  pleasant,  of  course."  He  seemed  to 
hint,  however,  that  he  did  not  regard  it  as  very  useful. 

[214] 


The   New  Life 

"  Oh,  and  serviceable  too,"  she  corrected  him,  with 
a  nod  of  wise  experience.  "  Jobs  are  frowned  at  now, 
but  many  great  men  have  started  by  means  of  them. 
Robert  Disney  himself  came  in  for  a  pocket-borough." 

"  Well,  I  really  don't  know,"  he  repeated  thought- 
fully, but  with  no'sign  of  anxiety  or  fretting.  "  There's 
lots  of  time,  Lady  Evenswood." 

"  Not  for  me,"  she  said  with  all  her  graciousness. 

He  smiled  again,  this  time  cordially,  as  he  rose  tc 
take  leave.     But  she  detained  him. 

"  You're  on  friendlv  terms  with  your  cousin,  I  sup- 
r>ose?" 

"  Certainly,  if  we  meet.  Of  course  I  haven't  seen 
her  since  I  left  Blent.     She's  there,  you  know." 

"  Have  you  written  to  her?  " 

"  No.  I  think  it's  best  not  to  ask  her  to  think  of  me 
just  now." 

She  looked  at  him  a  moment,  seeming  to  consider. 

"  Perhaps,"'  she  said  at  last.  "  But  don't  over-do 
that.     Don't  be  cruel." 

"  Cruel  ?  "  There  was  strong  surprise  in  his  voice 
and  on  his  face. 

"  Yes,  cruel.  Have  you  ever  troubled  to  think  what 
she  may  be  feeling?  " 

"  I  don't  know  that  I  ever  have,"  Harry  admitted 
slowly.  "  At  first  sight  it  looks  as  if  I  were  the  person 
who  might  be  supposed  to  be  feeling." 

"  At  first  sight,  yes.  Is  that  always  to  be  enough 
for  you,  Mr  Tristram?  If  so,  I  shan't  regret  so  much 
that  I  haven't — lots  of  time." 

He  stood  silent  before  her  for  several  seconds. 

"  Yes,  I  see.  Perhaps.  I  daresay  I  can  find  out 
something  about  it.  After  all,  I've  given  some  evi- 
dence of  consideration  for  h.cr." 

"  That  makes  it  worse  if  you  give  none  now.  Good- 
by." 

[2iSl 


Tristram   of  Blent 

"  It's  less  than  a  fortnight  since  I  first  met  her.  She 
won't  miss  me  much,  Lady  Evenswood." 

"  Time's  everything,  isn't  it  ?  Oh,  you're  not  stupid  ! 
Think  it  over,  Mr  Tristram.  Now  good-by.  And 
don't  conchide  I  shan't  think  about  you  because  it's 
only  an  hour  since  we  met.  We  women  are  curious. 
When  you've  nothing  better  to  do  it'll  pay  you  to  study 
us." 

As  Harry  walked  down  from  her  house  in  Green 
Street,  his  thoughts  were  divided  between  the  new  life 
and  that  old  one  which  she  had  raised  again  before  his 
eyes  by  her  reference  to  Cecily.  The  balance  was 
turned  in  favor  of  Blent  by  the  sight  of  a  man  who  was 
associated  in  his  mind  with  it — Sloyd,  the  house-agent 
who  had  let  Merrion  Lodge  to  Mina  Zabriska.  Sloyd 
was  as  smart  as  usual,  but  he  was  walking  along  in  a 
dejected  way,  and  his  hat  was  unfashionably  far  back 
on  his  head.  He  started  when  he  saw  Harry  approach- 
ing him. 

"  Why,  it's "  he  began,  and  stopped  in  evident 

hesitation. 

"  Mr  Tristram,"  said  Harry.  "  Glad  to  meet  you, 
Mr  Sloyd,  though  you  won't  have  any  more  rent  to 
hand  over  to  me." 

Sloyd  began  to  murmur  some  rather  flowery  con- 
dolences. 

Harry  cut  him  short  in  a  peremptory  but  good- 
natured  fashion. 

"  How's  business  with  you?"  he  asked. 

"  Might  be  worse,  Mr  Tristram.  I  don't  complain. 
We're  a  young  firm,  and  we  don't  command  the  oppor- 
tunities that  others  do."  He  laughed  as  he  added, 
"  You  couldn't  recommend  me  to  a  gentleman  with 
ten  thousand  pounds  to  spare,  could  you,  Mr  Tris- 
tram?" 

*'  I  know  just  the  man.     What's  it  for  ?  " 

[216] 


The  New   Life 

"  No,  no.  Principals  only,"  said  Sloyd  with  a  shake 
of  his  head. 

"  How  does  one  become  a  principal  then?  I'll  walk 
your  way  a  bit."  Harry  lit  a  cigar  ;  Sloyd  became  more 
erect  and  amended  the  position  of  his  hat ;  he  hoped 
that  a  good  many  people  would  recognize  Harry.  Yet 
social  pride  did  not  interfere  with  business  wariness. 

"Are  you  in  earnest,  Air  Tristram?  It's  a  safe 
thing." 

"  Oh,  no,  it  isn't,  or  you  wouldn't  be  hunting  for  ten 
thousand  on  the  pavement  of  Berkeley  Square." 

''  I'll  trust  you,"  Sloyd  declared.  Harry  nodded 
thanks,  inwardly  amused  at  the  obvious  effort  which 
attended  the  concession.  "  If  you  don't  come  in,  you'll 
not  give  it  away  ?  "  Again  Harry  nodded.  "  It's  a  big 
chance,  but  we  haven't  got  the  money  to  take  it,  and 
unless  we  can  take  it  we  shall  have  to  sell  our  rights. 
It's  an  option  on  land.  I  secured  it,  but  it's  out  in  a 
week.  Before  then  we  must  table  twenty  thousand. 
And  ten  cleans  us  out." 

"  What'll  happen  if  you  don't?  " 

"  I  must  sell  the  option — rather  than  forfeit  it,  you 
know.     I've  an  offer  for  it,  but  a  starvation  one." 

"  Who  from  ?  " 

After  a  moment's  scrutiny  Sloyd  whispered  a  name 
of  immense  significance  in  such  a  connection :  "  Iver." 

"  I  should  like  to  hear  some  more  about  this.  It's 
worth  something,  I  expect,  if  Iver  wants  it.  Shall  I 
go  with  you  to  your  office  ?  "  He  hailed  a  passing  cab. 
"  I've  got  the  money,"  he  said,  "  and  I  want  to  use  it. 
You  show  me  that  this  is  a  good  thing,  and  in  it  goes." 

An  hour  passed  in  the  office  of  Sloyd,  Sloyd,  and 
Gurney.  Harry  Tristram  came  out  whistling.  He 
looked  very  pleased ;  his  step  was  alert ;  he  had  found 
something  to  do,  he  had  made  a  beginning — good  or 
bad.     It  looked  good :  that  was  enough.     He  was  no 

[217] 


Tristram  ^Blent 

longer  an  idler  or  merely  an  onlooker.  He  had  begun 
to  take  a  hand  in  the  game  himself.  He  found  an 
added,  perhaps  a  boyish,  pleasure  in  the  fact  that  the 
affair  was  for  the  present  to  be  a  dead  secret.  He  was 
against  Iver  too  in  a  certain  sense,  and  that  was  an- 
other spice ;  not  from  any  ill-will,  but  because  it  would 
please  him  especially  to  show  Iver  that  he  could  hold 
his  own.  It  occurred  to  him  that  in  case  of  a  success 
he  -would  enjoy  going  and  telling  old  Lady  Evenswood 
about  it.  He  felt,  as  he  said  to  himself,  very  jolly,  care- 
less and  jolly,  more  so  than  he  remembered  feeling  for 
many  months  back.  Suddenly  an  idea  struck  him. 
Was  it  in  whole  or  in  part  because  there  was  no  longer 
anything  to  hide,  because  he  need  no  longer  be  on  the 
watch  ?  He  gave  this  idea  a  good  deal  of  rather  amused 
consideration,  and  came  to  the  conclusion  that  there 
might  be  something  in  it.  He  went  to  the  theatre  that 
night,  to  the  pit  (where  he  would  not  be  known),  and 
enjoyed  himself  immensely. 

And  Lady  Evenswood  had  made  up  her  mind  that 
she  would  find  a  way  of  seeing  Mr  Disney  soon,  and 
throw  out  a  cautious  feeler.  Everything  would  have 
to  be  done  very  carefully,  especially  if  the  marriage  with 
the  cousin  were  to  be  made  a  feature  of  the  case.  But 
her  resolve,  although  not  altered,  was  hampered  by  a 
curious  feeling  to  which  her  talk  with  Harry  had  given 
rise.  There  was  now  not  only  the  very  grave  question 
whether  Robert  Disney — to  say  nothing  of  Somebody 
Else — would  entertain  the  idea.  There  was  another, 
a  much  less  obvious  one — whether  Harry  himself  would 
welcome  it.  And  a  third — whether  she  herself  would 
welcome  it  for  him.  However,  when  Southend  next 
called  on  her,  she  professed  her  readiness  to  attack  or 
at  least  to  reconnoitre  the  task  from  which  he  and  John 
Fullcombe  and  the  rest  had  shrunk. 

"  Only,"  she  said,  "  if  I  were  you,  I  should  find  out 

[-218] 


The  New   Life 

tolerably  early — as  soon  as  we  know  that  there's  any 
chance  at  all — what  Mr  .Tristram  himself  thinks  about 

it." 

"  There's  only  one  thing  he  could  think !  "  exclaimed 

Southend. 

"  Oh,  very  well,"  smiled  Lady  Evenswood. 

A  long  life  had  taught  her  that  only  facts  convince, 
and  that  they  often  fail. 


[219] 


XVII 

River    Scenes    and    Bric-a-Brac 

THE  BLENT  was  on  fire  indeed,  and  Mina  Za- 
briska  occupied  a  position  rich  in  importance, 
prolific  of  pleasure.  Others,  such  as  Iver  and 
Miss  S.,  might  meet  Mr  Gainsborough  as  he  took 
timid  rambles ;  they  could  extort  little  beyond  a  dazed 
civility.  Others  again,  such  as  Janie  Iver  and  Bob 
Broadley,  might  comfort  themselves  with  the  posses- 
sion of  a  secret  and  the  conviction  that  they  too  could 
produce  a  fair  sensation  when  the  appropriate  (and 
respectable)  time  arrived ;  for  the  present  they  com- 
manded no  public  interest.  Others  again,  the  Major 
notably,  strove  after  importance  by  airs  of  previous 
knowledge  and  hints  of  undisclosed  details.  Even  Mrs 
Trumbler  made  her  cast,  declaring  that  she  had  always 
known  (the  source  of  the  information  was  left  in  ob- 
scurity) that  pride  such  as  Harry  Tristram's  was  the 
sure  precursor  of  a  fall.  None  of  them  could  compete 
with  Mina  Zabriska.  To  her  alone  the  doors  of  Blent 
were  open ;  she  held  exclusive  right  of  access  to  its  hid- 
den mistress.  The  fact  caused  unmeasured  indigna- 
tion, the  reason  excited  unresting  curiosity.  This  state 
of  things  ought  to  have  made  Mina  very  happy.  What 
more  could  woman  want? 

One  thing  only,  but  that  a  necessity — somebody  to 
talk  to  about  it.  She  had  nobody.  Janie  showed  no 
desire  to  discuss  Blent  or  anything  or  anybody  con- 
nected therewith,  and  with  Janie  out  of  the  question 
there  was  nobody  to  whom  loyalty  allowed  her  to  talk. 
The  Major,  for  instance,  was  one  of  the  enemy.     She 

[220] 


River  Scenes  and  Bric-a-Brac 

might  pity  him  as  an  uncle — he  was  perplexed  and 
surly,  because  somehow  he  never  happened  to  meet 
Miss  Iver  now — but  she  could  not  confide  in  him.  The 
gossips  of  Blentmouth  were  beneath  her  lordly  notice. 
She  was  bubbling  over  with  undiscussed  impressions. 
And  now  even  Mr  Neeld  had  gone  off  on  a  visit  to 
town ! 

Yet  things  needed  talking  about,  hammering  out, 
the  light  of  another  mind  thrown  upon  them  ;  for  they 
were  very  difficult.  There  was  no  need  to  take  account 
of  Mr  Gainsborough ;  as  long  as  he  could  be  kept  in 
the  library  and  out  of  the  one  curiosity-shop  which  was 
to  be  found  in  Blentmouth,  he  could  not  do  himself  or 
the  house  much  harm.  He  was  still  bewildered,  but 
by  no  means  unhappy,  and  he  talked  constantly  of  go- 
ing back  to  town  to  see  about  everything — to-morrow. 
There  was  nothing  to  see  about — the  lawyers  had  done 
it  all — and  he  was  no  more  necessary  or  important  in 
London  than  he  was  at  Blent.  But  Cecily's  case  was 
another  matter  altogether,  and  it  was  about  her  that 
Mina  desired  the  enlightening  contact  of  mind  with 
mind,  in  order  to  canvass  and  explain  the  incongruities 
of  a  l:)ehavior  which  conformed  to  no  rational  or  con- 
sistent theory. 

Cecily  had  acquiesced  in  all  the  lawyers  did,  had 
signed  papers  at  request,  had  allowed  herself  to  be  in- 
vested with  the  property,  saluted  with  the  title,  en- 
throned in  the  fullest  manner.  So  far  then  she  had 
accepted  her  cousin's  sacrifice  and  the  transformation 
of  her  own  life.  Yet  through  and  in  spite  of  all  this 
she  maintained,  even  to  the  extreme  of  punctiliousness, 
the  air  of  being  a  visitor  at  Blent.  She  was  not  exactly 
apologetic  to  the  servants,  but  she  thanked  them  pro- 
fusely for  any  special  personal  service  they  might  per- 
form for  her ;  she  made  no  changes  in  the  order  of  the 
household;  when  Mina — always  busy  in  her  friend's 

[221] 


Tristram  of  Blent 

interest — suggested  re-arrangement  of  furniture  or  of 
curios,  Cecily's  manner  implied  that  she  was  prepared 
to  take  no  such  liberties  in  another  man's  house.  It 
would  have  been  all  very  well-bred  if  Harry  had  put 
his  house  at  her  disposal  for  a  fortnight.  Seeing  that 
the  place  was  her  own  and  that  she  had  accepted  it  as 
being  her  own,  Mina  declared  that  her  conduct  was 
little  less  than  an  absurdity.  This  assertion  was  Hmited 
to  Mina's  own  mind ;  it  had  not  been  made  to  the  of- 
fender herself.  The  fear  she  had  felt  of  Harry  threat- 
ened to  spread  to  his  successor ;  she  did  not  feel  equal 
to  a  remonstrance.  But  she  grew  gradually  into  a 
state  of  extreme  irritation  and  impatience.  This  pro- 
visional, this  ostentatiously  provisional,  attitude  could 
not  be  maintained  permanently.  Something  must  hap- 
pen one  way  or  the  other.  Now  what  was  it  to  be? 
She  could  not  pretend  to  guess.  These  Tristrams  were 
odd  folk.  There  was  the  same  blood  in  Cecily  as  had 
run  in  Addie  Tristram's  veins.  On  the  other  hand  the 
Gainsboroughs  seemed  to  have  been  ordinary.  Was 
this  period  of  indecision  or  of  suspended  action  a  time 
of  struggle  between  the  Tristram  in  Cecily  and  the 
Gainsborough?  Mina,  on  the  look-out  for  entertain- 
ment, had  no  doubt  which  of  the  two  she  wished  to  be 
victorious ;  the  Gainsborough  promised  nothing,  the 
Tristram — well — effects  !  The  strain  made  Mina  ex- 
cited, restless,  and  at  times  exceedingly  short  with 
Major  Duplay. 

The  neighborhood  waited  too,  but  for  the  end  of 
Lady  Tristram's  mourning,  not  of  her  indecision.  As  a 
result  of  much  discussion,  based  on  many  rumors  and 
an  incredible  number  of  authentic  reports,  it  was  set- 
tled that  at  the  end  of  six  months  Blent  was  to  be 
thrown  open,  visitors  received,  and  a  big  house-warm- 
ing given.  A  new  era  was  to  begin.  Splendor  and 
respectability  were  to  lie  down  together.     Blent  was 

[222] 


River  Scenes  and  Bric-a-Brac 

to  pay  a  new  homage  to  the  proprieties.  Miss  Swin- 
kerton  was  strongly  of  opinion  that  bygones  should  be 
allowed  to  be  bygones,  and  was  author  of  a  theory 
which  found  much  acceptance  among  the  villas — 
namely,  that  Lady  Tristram  would  consider  any  refer- 
ence to  her  immediate  predecessor  as  inconsiderate, 
indeed  indelicate,  and  not  such  as  might  be  expected 
to  proceed  from  lady-like  mouths. 

"  We  must  remember  that  she's  a  girl,  my  dear," 
Miss  S.  observed  to  Mrs   Trumbler. 

"  She  must  know  about  it,"  Mrs  Trumbler  suggest- 
ed.    "  But  I  dare  say  you're  right.  Miss  Swinkerton." 

"  If  such  a  thing  had  happened  in  my  family,  I  should 
consider  myself  personally  affronted  by  any  reference 
to  the  persons  concerned." 

"  The  Vicar  says  he's  sadly  afraid  that  the  notions 
of  the  upper  classes  on  such  subjects  are  very  lax." 

"  Not  at  all,"  said  Miss  S.  tartly.  Really  she  needed 
no  instruction  from  the  Vicar.  "  And  as  I  say,  my 
dear,  she's  a  girl.  The  ball  will  mark  a  new  departure. 
I  said  so  to  Madame  Zabriska  and  she  quite  agreed  with 
me." 

Mrs  Trumbler  frowned  pensively.  "  I  suppose  Ma- 
dame Zabriska  has  been  a  widow  some  time?"  she 
remarked. 

"  I  have  never  inquired,"  said  Miss  S.  with  an  air 
of  expecting  applause  for  a  rare  discretion. 

"  I  wonder  what  Mr  Ilarry  will  do  !  The  Vicar  says 
he  must  be  terribly  upset." 

"  Oh,  I  never  professed  to  understand  that  young 
man.     All  I  know  is  that  he's  going  abroad." 

"Abroad?" 

"  Yes,  my  dear.  I  heard  it  in  the  town,  and  Madame 
Zabriska  said  she  had  no  doubt  it  was  correct." 

"  But  surely  Madame  Zabriska  doesn't  corre- 
spond  ?" 

[223] 


Tristram  of  Blent 

"  I  don't  know,  my  dear.  I  know  what  she  said." 
She  looked  at  Mrs  Trumbler  and  went  on  with  empha- 
sis :  "It  doesn't  do  to  judge  foreigners  as  we  should 
judge  ourselves.  If  I  corresponded  with  Mr  Tristram 
it  would  be  one  thing ;  if  Madame  Zabriska — and  to  be 
sure  she  has  nobody  to  look  after  her ;  that  Major  is 
no  better  than  any  silly  young  man — chooses  to  do  so, 
it's  quite  another.  All  I  say  is  that,  so  far  as  Blent  is 
concerned,  there's  an  end  of  Mr  Tristram.  Why,  he 
hasn't  got  a  penny  piece,  my  dear." 

"  So  I  heard,"  agreed  Mrs  Trumbler.  "  I  suppose 
they  won't  let  him  starve." 

"  Oh,  arrangements  are  made  in  such  cases,"  nodded 
Miss  S.  "  But  of  course  nothing  is  said  about  them. 
For  my  part  I  shall  never  mention  either  Mr  Tristram 
or  the  late  Lady  Tristram  to  her  present  ladyship." 

Mrs  Trumbler  was  silent  for  a  while  ;  at  last  her 
mouth  spoke  the  thoughts  of  her  heart. 

"  I  suppose  she'll  be  thinking  of  marrying  soon.  But 
I  don't  know  anybody  in  the  neighborhood " 

"  My  dear,  she'll  have  her  house  in  town  in  the  sea- 
son.    The  only  reason  the  late  Lady  Tristram  didn't 

do  so  was Well,  you  can  see  that  for  yourself, 

Mrs   Trumbler !  " 

"  What  must  the  Ivers  think  about  it !  What  an 
escape !     How  providential !  " 

"  Let  us  hope  if'll  be  a  lesson  to  Janie.  If  I  had 
allowed  myself  to  think  of  position  or  wealth,  I  should 
have  been  married  half  a  dozen  times,  Mrs  Trum- 
bler." 

"  I  dare  say  you  would,"  said  faithful  Mrs  Trumbler. 
But  this  assent  did  not  prevent  her  from  remarking  to 
the  Vicar  that  Miss  S.  sometimes  talked  of  things  which 
no  unmarried  woman  could  be  expected  really  to  un- 
derstand. 

It  will  be  observed  that  the  Imp  had  been  alleviating 

[224] 


River  Scenes  and  B  r  i  c- a-B  r  a  c 

tlie  pangs  of  her  own  perplexity  by  a  dexterous  minis- 
tering to  the  dekisions  of  others.  Not  for  the  world 
would  she  have  contradicted  Miss  S.'s  assertions ;  she 
would  as  soon  have  thought  of  giving  that  lady  a  plain 
and  unvarnished  account  of  the  late  Monsieur  Za- 
briska's  very  ordinary  and  quite  reputable  life  and 
death.  No' doubt  she  was  right.  Both  she  and  the 
neighborhood  had  to  wait,  and  her  efforts  did  some- 
thing to  make  the  period  more  bearable  for  both  of 
them.  The  only  sufferer  was  poor  Mr  Gainsborough, 
who  w^as  driven  from  Blentmouth  and  the  curiosity 
shop  by  the  sheer  terror  of  encountering  ladies  from 
villas  who  told  him  all  about  what  his  daughter  was 
going  to  do. 

The  outbreak  came,  and  in  a  fashion  as  Tristram- 
esque  as  Mina  could  desire,  for  all  that  the  harbinger 
of  it  was  frightened  little  Mr  Gainsborough,  more 
frightened  still.  He  came  up  the  hill  ont  evening  about 
six,  praying  Mina's  immediate  presence  at  Blent. 
Something  had  happened,  he  explained,  as  they  walked 
down.  Cecily  had  had  a  letter — from  somebody  in 
London.  No,  not  Harry.  She  must  see  ]\lina  at  once. 
That  was  all  he  knew,  except  that  his  daughter  was 
perturbed  and  excited.  His  manner  protested  against 
the  whole  thing  with  a  mild  despair. 

"  Quick,  quick !  "  cried  the  Imp,  almost  making  him 
run  to  keep  up  with  her  impatient  strides. 

Cecily  was  in  her  room — the  room  that  had  been 
Addie  Tristram's. 

"  You've  moved  in  here !  "  was  Mina's  first  exclama- 
tion. 

"  Yes ;    the   housekeeper    said    I    must,    so    I    did. 

But "     She  glanced  up  for  a  moment  at  Addie's 

picture  and  broke  off.  Then  she  held  up  a  letter  which 
she  had  in  her  hand.  "  l)o  you  know  anything  of  Lord 
Southend?  "  she  asked. 

[225] 


Tristram  of  Blent 

"  I've  heard  Mr  Iver  and  Mr  Neeld  speak  of  him. 
That's  all." 

"  He  writes  to  say  he  knew  Lady  Tristram  and — and 
Harry,  and  hopes  he'll  know  me  soon." 

"  That's  very  friendly."  Mina  thought,  but  did  not 
add,  that  it  was  rather  unimportant. 

"  Yes,  but  it's  more  than  that.  Don't  you  see?  It's 
an  opening."  She  looked  at  her  friend,  impatient  at 
her  want  of  comprehension.  "  It  makes  it  possible  to 
do  something.     I  can  begin  now." 

"  Begin  what  ?  "  Mina  was  enjoying  her  own  be- 
wilderment keenly. 

"  How  long  did  you  think  I  could  stand  it?  I'm  not 
made  of — of — of  soap  !  You  know  Harry  !  You  liked 
him,  didn't  you  ?  And  you  knew  Lady  Tristram  !  I've 
slept  in  this  room  two  nights  and " 

"  You  haven't  seen  a  ghost?" 

"  Ghost !  Oh,  don't  be  silly.  I've  lain  here  awake, 
looking  at  that  picture.  And  it's  looked  at  me — at 
least  it  seemed  to.  '  What  are  you  doing  here  ?  '  That's 
what  it's  been  saying.  '  What  are  you  doing  here  ?  ' 
No,  I'm  not  mad.  That's  what  I  was  saying  myself. 
But  the  picture  seemed  to  say  it." 

There  was  a  most  satisfactory  absence  of  Gainsbor- 
ough about  all  this. 

"  Then  I  go  into  the  Long  Gallery  !  It's  no  better 
there !  "     Her  hands  were  flung  out  despairingly. 

"  You  seemed  to  have  settled  down  so  well,"  mur- 
mured Mina. 

"  Settled  down!  What  was  there  to  do?  Oh,  you 
know  I  hadn't !  I  can't  bear  it,  Mina,  and  I  won't. 
Isn't  it  hard?  I  should  have  loved  it  all  so,  if  it  had 
been  really  mine,  if  it  had  come  to  me  properly.  And 
now — it's  worse  than  nothing !  "  She  sat  back  in 
her  chair  with  her  face  set  in  a  desperate  unhappi- 
ness. 

[226] 


River  Scenes  and  Bric-a-Brac 

"  It  is  yours;  it  did  come  to  you  properly,''  JNIiiia 
protested.  Her  sympathy  tended  always  toward  the 
person  she  was  with,  her  sensitive  mind  responding  to 
the  immediate  appeal.  She  thought  more  of  Cecily 
now  than  of  Harry,  who  was  somewhere — vaguely 
somewhere — in  London. 

"You  say  that?"  cried  Cecily  angrily.  "You, 
Harry's  friend !  You,  who  fought  and  lied — yes,  lied 
for  him.  Why  did  you  do  all  that  if  you  think  it's  prop- 
erly mine  ?  How  can  I  face  that  picture  and  say  it's 
mine?  It's  a  detestable  injustice.  Ah,  and  I  did — I 
did  love  it  so." 

"  Well,  I  don't  see  what  you're  to  do.  You  can't 
give  it  back  to  Mr.  Tristram.  At  least  I  shouldn't  like 
to  propose  that  to  him,  and  I'm  sure  he  wouldn't  take 
it.     Why,  he  couldn't,  Cecily !  " 

Cecily  rose  and  walked  restlessly  to  the  window. 

"  No,  no,  no,"  she  said  fretfully.  vShe  turned  abruptly 
round  to  JNIina.  "  Lord  Southend  says  he'd  be  glad  to 
make  my  acquaintance  and  have  a  talk." 

"  Ask  him  down  here  then." 

"  Ask  him  here  ?  I'm  not  going  to  ask  people  to  stay 
here." 

"  I  think  that's  rather  absurd."  Mina  had  needed  to 
summon  up  courage  for  this  remark. 

"  And  he  says There,  look  at  this  letter.     He 

says  he's  seen  Harry  and  hopes  to  be  able  to  do  some- 
thing for  him.  What  does  he  mean  by  that?"  She 
came  back  toward  Mina.  "  There  must  be  something 
possible  if  he  says  that." 

"  He  can't  mean  anything  about — about  Blent.  He 
means " 

"  I  must  find  out  what  he  means.  I  must  see  him. 
The  letter  came  when  I  was  just  desperate.  Father 
and  I  sitting  down  here  together  day  after  day!     As 

if !     As  if !"     She  paused  and  struggled  for 

[227] 


Tristram   /?/ Blent 

self-control.  "  There,  I'm  going  to  be  quite  calm  and 
reasonable  about  it,"  she  ended. 

Mina  had  her  doubts  about  that — and  would  have 
been  sorry  not  to  have  them.  The  interest  that  had 
threatened  to  vanish  from  her  Hfe  with  Addie  Tristram's 
death  and  Harry's  departure  was  revived.  She  sat 
looking  at  the  agitated  girl  in  a  pleasant  suspense. 
Cecily  took  up  Southend's  letter  again  and  smoothed 
it  thoughtfully.  "  What  should  you  think  Harry  must 
feel  about  me  ?  "  she  asked,  with  a  nearer  approach  to 
the  calm  which  she  had  promised ;  but  it  seemed  the 
quiet  of  despair. 

Here  Mina  had  her  theory  ready  and  advanced  it  with 
confidence. 

"  I  expect  he  hates  you.  You  see  he  did  what  he  did 
in  a  moment  of  excitement :  he  must  have  been 
wrought  up  by  something — something  quite  unusual 
with  him.     You  brought  it  about  somehow." 

"  Yes,  I  know  I  did.  Do  you  suppose  I  haven't 
thought  about  that  ?  " 

"  There's  sure  to  have  been  a  reaction,"  pursued  the 
sage  Imp.  "  He'll  have  got  back  to  his  ordinary  state 
of  mind,  and  in  that  he  loved  Blent  above  everything. 
And  the  more  he  loves  Blent,  and  the  sorrier  he  is 
for  having  given  it  up,  the  less  he'll  like  you,  of 
course." 

"  You  think  he's  sorry?  " 

"  When  I've  done  anything  on  an  impulse  like  that, 
I'm  always  sorry."  Mina  spoke  from  a  tolerably  large 
experience  of  impulses  and  their  results ;  a  very  recent 
example  had  been  the  impulse  of  temper  which  made 
her  drop  hints  to  the  Major  about  Harry's  right  to  be 
Tristram  of  Blent. 

"  Yes,  then  he  would  hate  me,"  Cecily  concluded. 
"  And  how  she'd  hate  me !  "  she  cried  the  next  instant, 
pointing  at  Addie  Tristram's  picture. 

[228] 


River  Scenes  and  Bric-a-Brac 

About  that  at  least  there  was  no  doubt  in  Mina's 
mind.     She  nodded  emphatically. 

"  I've  done  what  she  spent  her  life  trying  to  prevent ! 
I've  made  everybody  talk  about  her  again !  IMina,  I 
feel  as  if  I'd  thrown  mud  at  her,  as  if  I'd  reviled  her. 
And  she  can't  know  how  I  would  have  loved  her  !  " 

"  I  remember  her  when  she  thought  her  husband  was 
dead,  and  that  she  could  be  married  all  right  to  Captain 
Fitzliubert,  and — and  that  it  would  be  all  right,  you 
know." 

"  What  did  she  say  ?  "  Cecily's  eyes  were  on  the 
picture. 

"  She  cried  out — '  Think  of  the  difference  it  makes — 
the  enormous  difference ! '  I  didn't  know  what  she 
meant  then,  but  I  remember  how  she  looked  and  how 
she  spoke." 

"  And  in  the  end  there  is — no  difference  !  Yes,  she'd 
hate  me.  And  so  must  Harry."  She  turned  to  Mina. 
"  It's  terribly  unfair,  isn't  it,  terribly  ?  She'd  have  liked 
me,  I  think,  and  I'd  got  to  be  such  good  friends  with 
him.  I'd  come  to  think  he'd  ask  us  down  now  and 
then — about  once  a  year  perhaps.  It  would  have  been 
something  to  look  forward  to  all  the  year.  It  would 
have  made  life  quite  different,  quite  good  enough,  you 
know.  I  should  have  been  so  content  and  so  happy 
with  that.  Oh,  it's  terribly  unfair  !  Why  do  people  do 
things  that — that  bring  about  things  like  this  ?  " 

"  Poor  Lady  Tristram,"  sighed  Mina,  glancing  at  the 
beautiful  cause  of  the  terrible  unfairness.  "  She  was 
like  that,  you  see,"  she  added. 

"  Yes,  I  know  that.  But  it  oughtn't  to  count  against 
other  people  so.     Yes,  it's  terribly  unfair." 

These  criticisms  on  the  order  of  the  world,  whether 
well-founded  or  not  (to  Mina  they  seemed  to  possess 
much  plausibility),  did  not  advance  matters.  A  silence 
fell  between  the  two,  and  Cecily  walked  again  to  the 

[229] 


Tristram  ^  Blent 

window.  The  sun  was  setting  on  Blent,  and  it  glowed 
in  a  soft  beauty. 

"  To  think  that  I  should  be  here,  and  have  this,  and 
yet  be  very  very  unhappy !  "  murmured  the  girl  softly. 
She  faced  round  suddenly.  "  Mina,  I'm  going  to  Lon- 
don.    Now — to-night.     There's  a  train  at  eight." 

The  Imp  sat  up  straight  and  stared. 

"  I  shall  wire  to  our  house;  the  maid's  there,  and 
she'll  have  things  ready." 

"  What  are  you  going  to  town  for?  " 

"  To  see  this  Lord  Southend.  You  must  come  with 
me." 

"I?     Oh,  I  can't  possibly.     And  your  father ?  " 

"  He  must  stay  here.  You  must  come.  Run  back 
and  pack  a  bag ;  you  won't  want  much.  I  shall  go  just 
as  I  am."  With  a  gesture  she  indicated  the  plain  black 
frock  she  wore.  "  Oh,  I  can't  be  bothered  with  pack- 
ing! What  does  that  matter?  I'll  call  for  you  in  the 
carriage  at  seven.     We  mustn't  miss  the  train." 

Mina  gasped.  This  was  Tristram  indeed  ;  the  wdld 
resolve  was  announced  in  tones  calmer  than  any  that 
Cecily  had  achieved  during  the  interview.  Mina  began 
to  think  that  all  the  family  must  have  this  way  of  being 
peculiar  in  ordinary  things,  but  quite  at  home  when 
there  was  an  opportunity  of  doing  anything  unusual. 

''  I  just  feel  I  must  go.  If  anything's  done  at  all, 
it'll  be  done  in  London,  not  here." 

"  How  long  do  you  mean  to  stay  ?  " 

"  I  can't  possibly  tell.  Till  something's  done.  Go 
now,  Mina,  or  you'll  be  late." 

*'  Oh,  I'm  not  coming.  The  whole  thing's  absurd. 
What  can  you  do?  And,  anyhow,  it's  not  my  busi- 
ness." 

"  Very  well.  I  shall  go  alone.  Only  I  thought  you 
were  interested  in  Harry  and — and  I  thought  you  were 
my  friend."     She  threw  herself  into  a  chair;  she  was 

[230] 


River   Scenes  and  Bric-a-Brac 

in  Addie  Tristram's  attitude.  "  But  I  suppose  I  haven't 
got  any  friends,"  she  concluded,  not  in  a  distressed 
fashion,  but  with  a  pensive  submissive  Httle  smile. 

"  You're  perfectly  adorable,"  cried  j\Iina,  running 
across  to  her.  "  And  I'll  go  with  you  to  Jericho,  if 
you  like."  She  caught  Cecily's  hands  in  hers  and 
kissed  her  cheek. 

The  scene  was  transformed  in  an  instant  ;  that  also 
was  the  Tristram  way.  Cecily  sprang  up  laughing 
gayly,  even  dancing  a  step  or  two,  as  she  wrung  Mina's 
hands. 

"Hurrah!  MarcJious!  En  Arant!  "  she  cried.  "Oh, 
we'll  do  something,  Mina!  Don't  vou  hate  sitting 
still?" 

"  Cecily,  are  you — are  you  in  love  with  Harry  ?  " 
"  Oh,  I  hope  not,  I  hope  not,"  she  laughed  softly. 
"  Because  he  must  hate  me  so.  And  are  you,  Mina? 
Oh,  I  hope  not  that  too  !  Come,  to  London  !  To  seek 
our  fortunes  in  London !  Oh,  you  tiresome  old  Blent, 
how  glad  I  am  to  leave  you  !  " 

"  But  your  father " 

"  We'll  do  things  quite  nicely,  ]\Iina  dear.  We  won't 
distress  father.  We'll  leave  a  note  for  him.  Mina,  I'm 
sure  Addie  Tristram  used  just  to  leave  a  note  whenever 
she  ran  away !     We'll  sleep  in  London  to-night !  " 

Suddenly  Mina  understood  better  why  Harry  had 
surrendered  Blent,  and  understood  too,  as  her  mind 
fiew  back,  why  Addie  Tristram  had  made  men  do  what 
they  had  done.  She  was  carried  away  by  this  sudden 
flood  of  enraptured  resolution,  of  a  resolve  that  seemed 
like  an  inspiration,  of  delight  in  the  unreasonable,  of 
gay  defiance  to  the  limits  of  the  possible. 

"Oh,  yes,  you  tiresome  old  Blent!"  cried  Cecily, 
shaking  her  fair  hair  toward  the  open  window.  "  How 
could  a  girl  think  she  was  going  to  live  on  river  scenes 
and  bric-a-brac  ?  "    She  laughed  in  airy  scorn.    "  You 

[231] 


Tristram   ^/ Blent 

must  grow  more  amusing  if  I'm  to  come  back  to  you  !  " 
she  threatened. 

River  scenes  and  bric-a-brac !  Mina  was  surprised 
that  Blent  did  not  on  the  instant  punish  the  blasphemy 
by  a  revengeful  earthquake  or  an  overwhelming  flood. 
Cecily  caught  her  by  the  arm,  a  burlesque  apprehension 
screwing  her  face  up  into  a  fantastically  ugly  mask. 

"  It  was  the  Gainsborough  in  me!  "  she  whispered, 
"  Gainsboroughs  can  live  on  curios  !  But  I  can't, 
Mina,  I  can't.  I'm  a  Tristram,  not  a  Gainsborough. 
No  more  could  Harry  in  the  end,  no  more  could 
Harry !  " 

Mina  was  panting;  she  had  danced  and  she  had  won- 
dered ;  she  was  on  the  tip  of  the  excitement  with  which 
Cecily  had  infected  her. 

"  But  what  are  we  going  to  do?  "  she  cried  in  a  last 
protest  of  common-sense. 

"  Oh,  I  don't  know,  but  something— something — 
something,"  was  the  not  very  common-sense  answer 
she  received. 

It  was  not  the  moment  for  common-sense.  Mina 
scorned  the  thing  and  flung  it  from  her.  She  would 
have  none  of  it — she  who  stood  between  beautiful  Addie 
there  on  the  wall  and  laughing  Cecily  here  in  the  win- 
dow, feeling  by  a  strange  and  welcome  illusion  that 
though  there  were  two  visible  shapes,  there  was  but 
one  heart,  ohe  spirit  in  the  two.  Almost  it  seemed  as 
though  Addie  had  risen  to  life  again,  once  more  to 
charm  and  to  defy  the  world.  An  inexplicable  impulse 
made  her  exclaim : 

"  Were  you  like  this  before  you  came  to  Blent?  " 

A  sudden  quiet  fell  on  Cecily.  She  paused  before 
she  answered : 

"  No,  not  till  I  came  to  Blent."  With  a  laugh  she 
fell  on  her  knees.  "  Please  forgive  me  what  I  said 
about  the  river  and  the  bric-a-brac,  dear  darling 
Blent  !  " 

[232] 


XVIII 

Conspirators  and   a   Crux 

LORD  SOUTHEND  was  devoted  to  his  wife— 
a  state  of  feeling  natural  often,  creditable  always. 
Yet  the  reason  people  gave  for  it — and  gave  with 
something  like  an  explicit  sanction  from  him — was  not 
a  very  exalted  one.  Susanna  made  him  so  exceedingly 
comfortable.  She  was  born  to  manage  a  hotel  and 
cause  it  to  pay  fifteen  per  cent.  Being  a  person — not 
of  social  importance,  nothing  could  make  her  that — 
but  of  social  rank,  she  was  forced  to  restrict  her  genius 
to  a  couple  of  private  houses.  The  result  was  like  the 
light  of  the  lamps  in  the  heroine's  boudoir,  a  soft  brill- 
iancy :  in  whose  glamour  Susanna's  plain  face  and  lim- 
ited intellectual  interests  were  lost  to  view.  She  was 
also  a  particularly  good  woman  ;  but  her  husband  knew 
better  than  to  talk  about  that. 

Behold  him  after  the  most  perfect  of  lunches,  his 
arm-chair  in  exactly  the  right  spot,  his  papers  by  him, 
his  cigars  to  his  hand  (even  these  Susanna  understood), 
a  sense  of  peace  in  his  heart,  and  in  his  head  a  mild 
wonder  that  anybody  was  discontented  with  the  world. 
In  this  condition  he  intended  to  spend  at  least  a  couple 
of  hours ;  after  which  Susanna  would  drive  him  gently 
once  round  the  Park,  take  him  to  the  House  of  Lords, 
wait  twenty  minutes,  and  then  land  him  at  the  Im- 
perium.  He  lit  a  cigar  and  took  up  the  Economist;  it 
was  not  the  moment  for  anything  exciting. 

"  A  lady  to  see  you,  my  Lord — on  important  busi- 
ness." 

Excessive  comfort  is  enervating.    After  a  brief  and 

[233] 


Tristram   <?/^  Blent 

futile  resistance  he  found  Mina  Zabriska  in  the  room, 
and  himself  regarding  her  with  mingled  consternation 
and  amusement.  Relics  of  excitement  hung  about  the 
Imp,  but  they  were  converted  to  business  purposes. 
She  came  as  an  agent.  The  name  of  her  principal 
awoke  Southend's  immediate  interest. 

"  She's  come  up  to  London  ?  "  he  exclaimed. 

"  Yes,  both  of  us.     We're  at  their  old  home." 

Southend  discovered  his  pince-nez  and  studied  her 
thin  mobile  little  face. 

"  And  what  have  you  come  up  for?  "  he  asked  after 
a  pause. 

Mina  shrugged  her  shoulders.  "  Just  to  see  what's 
going  on,"  she  said.  "  I  dare  say  you  wonder  what  I've 
got  to  do  with  it  ?  "  His  manner  seemed  to  assent,  and 
she  indicated  her  position  briefly. 

"  Oh,  that's  it,  is  it  ?  You  knew  the  late  Lady  Tris- 
tram.    And  you  knew "     Again  he  regarded  her 

thoughtfully.  "  I  hope  Lady  Tristram — the  new  one — 
is  well?" 

There  was  the  sound  of  a  whispered  consultation  out- 
side the  door ;  it  drew  Mina's  eyes  in  that  direction. 

"  That's  all  right,"  he  smiled.  "  It's  only  my  wife 
scolding  the  butler  for  having  let  you  in.  This  is  my 
time  for  rest." 

"  Rest !  "  exclaimed  Mina  rather  scornfully.  "  You 
wrote  to  Cecily  as  if  you  could  do  something." 

"  That  was  rash  of  me.  What  do  you  want  done  ? 
I've  heard  about  you  from  Iver,  you  know." 

"  Oh,  the  Ivers  have  nothing  to  do  with  this.  It's 
just  between  Cecily  and  Mr.  Tristram." 

"  And  you  and  me,  apparently." 

*'  What  was  your  idea  when  you  wrote  ?  I  made 
Cecily  let  me  come  and  see  you  because  it  sounded  as 
if  yon  had  an  idea."  If  he  had  no  idea,  it  was  clear 
that  contempt  awaited  hhn. 


Conspirators  and  a   Cru^c 

"  I  wanted  to  be  friendly.  But  as  for  doing  anything 
— well,  that  hardly  depends  on  me." 

"  But  things  can't  go  on  as  they  are,  you  know,"  she 
said  brusquely. 

"  Unhappily,  as  I  understand  the  law " 

"  Oh,  I  understand  the  law  too — and  very  silly  it  is. 
I  suppose  it  can't  be  changed  ?  " 

"  Good  gracious,  my  dear  Madame  Zabriska ! 
Changed  !  "  And  on  this  point  too  !  Nolinnits  leges 
Auglice He  just  stopped  himself  from  the  quota- 
tion. 

"  What  are  Acts  of  Parliament  for?"  Mina  demanded. 

"  Absolutely  out  of  the  question,"  he  laughed. 
'■  Even  if  everybody  consented,  absolutely." 

''  And  Harry  Tristram  wouldn't  consent,  you  mean  ?" 

"  Well,  could  any  man  ?  " 

Mina  looked  round  the  room  with  a  discontented  air  ; 
there  is  such  a  lamentable  gulf  between  feeling  that 
something  must  be  done  and  discovering  what  it  is. 

"  I  don't  say  positively  that  nothing  can  be  done," 
he  resumed  after  a  moment,  dangling  his  glass  and 
looking  at  her  covertly.  "  Are  you  at  leisure  this  after- 
noon?" 

"  If  you've  got  anything  to  suggest."  Mina  had 
grown  distrustful  of  his  inteUigence,  and  her  tone 
showed  it. 

"  I  thought  you  might  like  to  come  and  see  a  friend 
of  mine,  who  is  kind  enough  to  be  interested  in  Harry 
Tristram."  He  added,  with  the  consciousness  of  nam- 
ing an  important  person,  "  I  mean  Lady  Evenswood." 
"  Who's  she?  "  asked  the  Imp  curtly. 
To  do  them  justice.  Englishmen  seldom  forget  that 
allowances  must  be  made  for  foreigners.  Lord  South- 
end explained  gravely  and  patiently. 

"  Well,  let's  go,"  said  Mina  indifferently.  "  Not  that 
it  seems  much  use,"  her  manner  added. 

[235J 


Tristram  ^  Blent 

"  Excuse  me  a  moment,''  said  he,  and  he  went  out  to 
soothe  his  wife's  alarm  and  assure  her  that  he  was  not 
tired. 

As  they  drove,  Mina  heard  more  of  Lady  Evenswood 
— among  other  things,  that  she  had  known  Addie  Tris- 
tram as  a  child ;  this  fact  impressed  the  Imp  beyond  all 
the  rest.  But  Lady  Evenswood  herself  made  a  greater 
impression  still.  An  unusual  timidity  assaulted  and 
conquered  Mina  when  she  found  herself  with  the  white- 
haired  old  lady  who  never  seemed  to  do  more  than 
gently  suggest  and  yet  exercised  command.  Southend 
watched  them  together  with  keen  amusement,  while 
Lady  Evenswood  drew  out  of  Mina  some  account  of 
Cecily's  feelings  and  of  the  scene  at  Blent. 

"  Well,  that's  Tristram  all  over,"  sighed  Lady  Evens- 
wood  at  the  end. 

"  Yes,  isn't  it  ?  "  cried  Mina,  emboldened  by  a  sym- 
pathy that  spoke  her  own  thought.  "  She  hates  to  feel 
she's  taken  everything  away  from  him.  But  Lord 
Southend  says  he  can't  have  it  back." 

"  Oh,   no,   no,   my   dear.     Still "     She   glanced 

at  Southend,  doubtful  whether  to  mention  their 
scheme. 

He  shook  his  head  slightly. 

"  I  dare  say  Lady  Tristram  was  momentarily  ex, 
cited,"  he  remarked  to  Mina,  "  and  I  think  too  that  she 
exaggerates  what  Harry  feels.  As  far  as  I've  seen  him, 
he's  by  no  means  miserable." 

"  Well,  she  is  anyhow,"  said  Mina.  "  And  you  won't 
convince  her  that  he  isn't."  She  turned  to  Lady  Evens- 
wood.  "  Is  there  nothing  to  be  done?  You  see  it's 
all  being  wasted." 

"  All  being  wasted  ?  " 

"  Yes,  Blent  and  all  of  it.  He  can't  have  it ;  and  as 
things  are  now  she  can't  enjoy  it." 

"  Very  perverse,  very  perverse,  certainly,"  murmured 

[236] 


Conspirators  and  a   Crux 

Southend,  frowning — although  he  was  rather  amused 
too. 

"  With  an  obvious  solution/'  said  Lady  Evenswood, 
"  if  only  we  lived  in  the  realms  of  romance." 

"  I  have  suggested  a  magician,"  put  in  Southend. 
"  Though  he  doesn't  look  much  like  one,"  he  added 
with  a  laugh. 

Mina  did  not  understand  his  remark,  but  she  caught 
Lady  Evenswood's  meaning. 

"Yes,"  she  said,  "but  Harry  wouldn't  do  that 
either." 

"  He  doesn't  like  his  cousin?  " 

"  Yes,  I  think  so."  She  smiled  as  she  added,  "  And 
even  if  he  didn't  that  mightn't  matter." 

The  other  two  exchanged  glances  as  they  listened. 
Mina.  inspired  by  a  subject  that  never  failed  to  rouse 
her,  gained  courage. 

"  Any  more  than  it  mattered  with  Miss  Iver,"  she 
pursued.  "  And  he  might  just  as  likely  have  given 
Blent  to  Cecily  in  that  way  as  in  the  way  he  actually 
did — if  she'd  wanted  it  very  much  and — and  it  had  been 
a  splendid  thing  for  him  to  do." 

Lady  Evenswood  nodded  gently.  Southend  raised 
his  brows  in  a  sort  of  i)rotest  against  this  relentless 
analysis. 

"  Because  that  sort  of  thing  would  have  appealed  to 
him.  But  he'd  never  take  it  from  her;  he  wouldn't 
even  if  he  was  in  love  with  her."  She  addressed  Lady 
Evenswood  especially.  "  You  understand  that?  "  she 
asked.  "  He  wouldn't  be  indebted  to  her.  He'd  hate 
her  for  that." 

"  Not  very  amiable,"  conunented  Southend. 

"Amiable?  No!"  Amiability  seemed  at  a  dis- 
count with  the  Imp. 

"  You  know  him  very  well,  my  dear?  " 

"  Yes,  I — 1  came  to."     Mina  paused,  and  suddenly 

L237] 


Tristram  of  Blent 

blushed  at  the  remembrance  of  an  idea  that  had  once 
been  suggested  to  her  by  Major  Duplay.  "  And  Fm 
very  fond  of  her,"  she  added. 

"  In  the  deadlock,"  said  Southend,  "  I  think  you'll 
have  to  try  my  prescription,  Lady  Evenswood." 

"  You  think  that  would  be  of  use  ?  " 

"  It  would  pacify  this  pride  of  Master  Harry's  per- 
haps." 

Mina  looked  from  one  to  the  other. 

"  Do  you  mean  there's  anything  possible  ?  "  she 
asked. 

"  My  dear,  you're  a  very  good  friend." 

"  I'm  not  very  happy.     I  don't  know  what  in  the 

world  Cecily  will  do.     And  yet "     Mina  struggled 

with  her  rival  impulses  of  kindness  and  curiosity.  "  It's 
all  aw^fully  interesting,"  she  concluded,  breaking  into  a 
smile  she  could  not  resist. 

"  That's  the  only  excuse  for  all  of  us,  I  suppose," 
sighed  Lady  Evenswood. 

"  Not  that  I  like  the  boy  particularly,"  added  South- 
end. 

"  Is  there  anything?  "  asked  Mina.  The  appeal  was 
to  the  lady,  not  to  Southend.  But  he  answered  chalif- 
ingly : 

"  Possibly — just  possibly — the  resources  of  the  Con- 
stitution  " 

The  bell  of  the  front  door  sounded  audibly  in  the 
morning-room  in  which  they  were. 

"  I  dare  say  that's  Robert,"  remarked  Lady  Evens- 
wood.     "  He  said  he  might  call." 

"  Oh,  by  Jove !  "  exclaimed  Southend  with  a  laugh 
that  sounded  a  trifle  uneasy. 

The  door  opened,  and  a  man  came  in  unannounced. 
He  was  of  middle  height,  with  large  features,  thick 
coarse  hair,  and  a  rather  ragged  beard ;  his  arms  were 
long  and  his  hands  large. 

[238] 


Conspirators   and  a   Crux 

"  How  are  you,  Cousin  Sylvia  ?  "  he  said,  crossing  to 
Lady  Evenswood,  who  gave  him  her  hand  without 
rising.  "  How  are  you,  Southend  ?  "  He  turned  back 
to  Lady  Evenswood.     "  I  thought  you  were  alone." 

He  spoke  in  brusque  tones,  and  he  looked  at  Mina  as 
if  he  did  not  know  what  she  might  be  doing  there.  His 
appearance  seemed  vaguely  familiar  to  her. 

"  We  are  holding  a  little  conference,  Robert.  This 
young  lady  is  very  interested  in  Harry  Tristram  and 
his  affair.  Come  now,  you  remember  about  it !  Madame 
Zabriska,  this  is  Mr   Disney." 

"Mr  Disney!"  The  Imp  gasped.  "You 
mean .'' 

The  other  two  smiled.  Mr  Disney  scowled  a  little. 
Obviously  he  had  hoped  to  find  his  relative  alone. 

"  Madame  Zabriska  met  Addie  Tristram  years  ago 
at  Heidelberg,  Robert ;  and  she's  been  staying  down 
at  Blent — at  Merrion  Lodge,  didn't  you  say,  my 
dear?" 

Mr  Disney  had  sat  down. 

"  Well,  what's  the  young  fellow  like  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  Oh,  1 — I — don't  know,"  murmured  the  Imp  in  for- 
lorn shyness.  This  man  was — was  actually — the — the 
Prime  Minister!  Matters  would  have  been  rather  bet- 
ter if  he  had  consented  to  look  just  a  little  like  it.  As 
it  was,  her  head  was  in  a  whirl.  Lady  Evenswood 
called  him  "  Robert  "  too !  Nothing  about  Lady 
Evenswood  had  impressed  her  as  much  as  that,  not 
even  the  early  acquaintance  with  Addie  Tristram. 

"  Well  then,  what's  the  girl  like  ?  "  asked  Disney. 

"  Robert,  don't  frighten  Madame  Zabriska." 

"  Frighten  her?     What  do  you  mean?  " 

"  Oh,  tell  him  what  I  mean,  George,"  laughed  Lady 
Evenswood,  turning  to  Southend.  Mr  Disney  seemed 
genuinely  resentful  at  the  idea  that  he  might  frighten 
anybody. 

[239] 


Tristram  ^Blent 

"  Are  you  a  member  of  the  conference  too,  South- 
end ?  " 

"  Well,  yes,  I — I'm  interested  in  the  family.  He  tele- 
graphed a  glance  of  caution  to  the  old  lady;  he  meant 
to  convey  that  the  present  was  not  a  happy  moment  to 
broach  the  matter  that  was  in  their  minds. 

"  I'm  sorry  I  interrupted.  Can  you  give  me  five 
minutes  in  another  room,  Cousin  Sylvia?"  He  rose 
and  waited  for  her. 

"  Oh,  but  can't  you  do  anything?  "  blurted  out  the 
Imp  suddenly. 

"  Eh  ?  "  His  eyes  under  their  heavy  brows  were 
fixed  on  her  now.  There  was  a  deep-lying  twinkle  in 
them,  although  he  still  frowned  ferociously.  "  Do 
what  ?  " 

"  Why,  something  for — for  Harry  Tristram  ?  " 

He  looked  round  at  each  of  them.  The  twinkle  was 
gone ;  the  frown  was  not. 

"  Oh,  was  that  the  conference  ?  "  he  asked  slowly. 
"  Well,  what  has  the  conference  decided  ?  "  It  was 
Mina  whom  he  questioned,  for  which  Southend  at  least 
was  profoundly  thankful.  "  He'd  have  bitten  my  head 
off,  if  the  women  hadn't  been  there,"  he  confided  to 
Iver  afterward. 

Mr  Disney  slowly  sat  down  again.  Mina  did  not 
perceive  the  significance  of  this  action,  but  Lady  Evens- 
wood  did. 

"  It's  such  an  extraordinary  case,  Robert.  So  very 
exceptional !  Poor  Addie  Tristram  !  You  remember 
her?" 

"  Yes,  I  remember  Addie  Tristram,"  he  muttered — 
"  growled,"  Mina  described  it  afterward.  "  Well,  what 
do  you  want?  "  he  asked. 

Lady  Evenswood  was  a  woman  of  tact. 

"  Really,"  she  said,  "  it  can't  be  done  in  this  way, 
of   course.     If   anything   is   to   come   before   you,    it 

[240] 


Conspirators   and  a   Crux 

must  come  before  vou  regularly.  I  know  that, 
Robert." 

The  Imp  had  no  tact. 

"  Oh,  no,"  she  cried.  "  Do  listen  now,  Mr  Disney. 
Do  promise  to  help  us  now !  " 

Tact  is  not  always  the  best  thing  in  the  world. 

"  If  you'll  tell  me  in  two  words,  I'll  Hsten,"  said  Mr 
Disney. 

"I — I  can't  do  that.  In  two  words?  Oh,  but 
please " 

He  had  turned  away  from  her  to  Southend. 

"  Now  then,  Southend?  " 

Lord  Southend  felt  that  he  must  be  courageous. 
After  all  the  women  were  there. 

"  In  two  words  ?     Literally  ?  " 

Disney  nodded,  smiling  grimly  at  Mina's  clasped 
hands  and  imploring  face. 

"  Literally — if  you  can."  There  was  a  gratuitous 
implication  that  Southend  and  the  rest  of  the  world 
were  apt  to  be  loquacious. 

"  Well,  then,''  said  Southend,  "  I  will.     What  we 

want  is "     After  one  glance  at  Lady  Evenswood, 

he  got  it  out.     "  What  we  want  is — a  viscounty." 

For  a  moment  Mr  Disney  sat  still.  Then  again  he 
rose  slowly. 

"  Have  I  tumbled  into  Bedlam  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  It  was  done  in  the  Bearsdale  case,"  suggested  Lady 
Evenswood.     "  Of  course  there  was  a  doubt  there " 

"  Anyhow  a  barony — but  a  viscounty  would  be  more 
convenient,"  murmured  Southend. 

Mina  was  puzzled.  These  mysteries  were  beyond 
her.  She  had  never  heard  of  the  IJearsdale  case,  and 
she  did  not  understand  why — in  certain  circumstances 
— a  viscounty  would  be  more  convenient.  But  she 
knew  that  something  was  l)eing  urged  which  might 
meet  the  difficulty,  and  she  kept  eager  eyes  on  Mr  Dis- 

[241J 


Tristram  oJ^  Blent 

ney.  Perhaps  she  would  have  done  that  anyhow  ;  men 
who  rule  heads  and  hearts  can  surely  draw  eyes  also. 
Yet  at  the  moment  he  was  not  inspiring.  He  listened 
with  a  smile  (was  it  not  rather  a  grin?)  of  sardonic 
ridicule. 

"  You  made  me  speak,  you  know,"  said  Southend. 
"  I'd  rather  have  waited  till  we  got  the  thing  into 
shape." 

"  And  I  should  like  you  to  see  the  boy,  Robert." 
"  Bedlam !  "  said  Mr  Disney  with  savage  conviction. 
"  I'll  talk  to  you  about  what  I  came  to  say  another  day, 

Cousin  Sylvia.     Really  to-day !  "     With  a  vague 

awkward  wave  of  his  arm  he  started  for  the  door. 
"  You  will  try  ?  "  cried  the  Imp,  darting  at  him. 
She  heard  him  say,  half  under  his  breath,  "  Damned 
persistent  little  woman !  "  before  he  vanished  through 
the  door.  She  turned  to  her  companions,  her  face 
aghast,  her  lips  quivering,  her  eyes  dim.  The  magician 
had  come  and  gone  and  worked  no  spell;  her  disap- 
pointment was  very  bitter. 

To  her  amazement  Seuthend  was  radiant  and  Lady 
Evenswood  wore  an  air  of  gratified  contentment.  She 
stared  at  them. 

"  It  went  off  better  than  I  expected,"  said  he. 

"  It  must  be  one  of  Robert's  good  days,"  said  she. 

"  But — but "  gasped  the  Imp. 

"  He  was  very  civil  for  him.  He  must  mean  to 
think  about  it,  about  something  of  the  sort  anyhow," 
Southend  explained.  "  I  shouldn't  wonder  if  it  had 
been  in  his  mind,"  he  added  to  Lady  Evenswood. 

"  Neither  should  I.     At  any  rate  he  took  it  splen- 
didly.    I  almost  wish  we'd  spoken  of  the  marriage," 
"  Couldn't  you  write  to  him  ?  " 
"  He  wouldn't  read  it,  George." 
"  Telegraph  then !  " 

"  It  would  really  be  worth  trying — considering  how 

[242] 


Conspirators  and  a   Crux 

he  took  it."  Lady  Evenswood  did  not  seem  able  to 
get  over  the  Prime  Minister's  extraordinary  affability. 

"  Well,  if  he  treats  you  like  that — great  people  like 
you — and  you're  pleased,  thank  goodness  I  never  met 
him  alone  !  "  Mina  was  not  shy  with  them  any  more  ; 
she  had  suffered  worse. 

They  glanced  at  one  another. 

"  It  was  you,  my  dear.  He'd  have  been  more  diffi- 
cult with  us,"  said  Lady  Evenswood. 

"  You  interested  him,"  Southend  assured  her. 

"  Yes,  if  anything's  been  done,  you've  done  it." 

They  seemed  quite  sincere.  That  feeling  of  being 
on  her  head  instead  of  her  heels  came  over  Mina  again. 

"  I  shouldn't  be  a  bit  surprised  if  he  sent  for  Harry." 

"  No,  nor  if  he  arranged  to  meet  Cecily  Gainsbor- 
ough— Cecily  Tristram,  I  mean." 

"  I  thought  he  looked — well,  as  if  he  was  hit — when 
you  mentioned  Addie." 

"  Oh,  there's  really  no  telling  with  Robert.  It  went 
off  very  well  indeed.     What  a  lucky  thing  he  came !  " 

Still  bewildered,  Mina  began,  all  the  same,  to  assimi- 
late this  atmosphere  of  contentment  and  congratula- 
tion. 

"  Do  you  really  think  I — I  had  anything  to  do  with 
it?  "  she  asked,  a  new  pride  swelling  in  her  heart. 

"  Yes,  yes,  you  attracted  his  attention." 

"  He  was  amused  at  you,  my  dear." 

"  Then  I'm  glad."  She  meant  that  her  sufferings 
would  perhaps  not  go  unrecompensed. 

"  You  must  bring  Lady  Tristram  to  see  me,"  said 
Lady  Evenswood. 

"Cecily?     Oh— well,  I'll  try." 

Lady  Evenswood  smiled  and  Southend  laughed  out- 
right. It  was  not  quite  the  way  in  which  Lady  Evens- 
wood's  invitations  were  generally  received.  But  neither 
of  them  liked  Mina  less. 

[243] 


Tristram  <?/^  Blent 

It  was  something  to  go  back  to  the  tiny  house  be- 
tween the  King's  and  Fulham  Road  with  the  record 
of  such  adventures  as  these.  Cecily  was  there,  languid 
and  weary ;  she  had  spent  the  whole  day  in  that  ham- 
mock in  the  strip  of  garden  in  which  Sloyd  had  found 
her  once.  Despondency  had  succeeded  to  her  excite- 
ment— this  was  all  quite  in  the  Tristram  way — and  she 
had  expected  no  fruit  from  Mina's  expedition.  But 
Mina  came  home,  not  indeed  with  anything  very  defi- 
nite, yet  laden  with  a  whole  pack  of  possibilities.  She 
put  that  point  about  the  viscounty,  which  puzzled  her, 
first  of  all.  It  alone  was  enough  to  fire  Cecily  to  anima- 
tion. Then  she  led  up,  through  Lady  Evenswood,  to 
Mr  Disney  himself,  confessing  however  that  she  took 
the  encouragement  which  that  great  man  had  given 
on  faith  from  those  who  knew  him  better  than  she  did. 
Her  own  impression  would  have  been  that  he  meant  to 
dismiss  the  whole  thing  as  impossible  nonsense. 

"  Still  I  can't  help  thinking  we've  done  something," 
she  ended  in  triumph. 

"  Mina,  are  you  working  for  him  or  for  me?  " 

This  question  faced  Mina  with  a  latent  problem  which 
she  had  hitherto  avoided.  And  now  she  could  not  solve 
it.  For  some  time  back  she  had  been  familiarized  with 
the  fact  that  her  life  was  dull  when  Harry  Tristram 
passed  out  of  it.  The  accepted  explanation  of  that  state 
of  feeling  was  simple  enough.  But  then  it  would  in- 
volve Cecily  in  her  turn-passing  out  of  view,  or  at  least 
becoming  entirely  insignificant.  And  Mina  was  not 
prepared  for  that.  She  tried  hard  to  read  the  answer, 
regarding  Cecily  earnestly  the  while. 

"  Mayn't  I  work  for  both  of  you  ?  "  she  asked  at  last. 

"  Well,  I  can't  see  why  you  should  do  that,"  said 
Cecily,  rolling  out  of  the  hammock  and  fretfully 
smoothing  her  hair. 

"  I'm  a  busy-body.    That's  it,"  said  Mina. 

[244] 


Conspirators   and   a   Crux 

"  You  know  what'll  happen  if  he  finds  it  out  ?  Harry, 
I  mean.    He'll  be  furious  with  both  of  us." 

Mina  reflected.  "  Yes,  I  suppose  he  will,"  she  ad- 
mitted. But  the  spirit  of  self-sacrifice  was  on  her,  per- 
haps also  that  of  adventure.  "  I  don't  care,"  she  said, 
"  as  long  as  I  can  help." 

There  was  a  loud  knock  at  the  door.  Mina  rushed 
into  the  front  room  and  saw  a  man  in  uniform  delivering 
a  letter.  The  next  moment  the  maid  brought  it  to  her — 
a  long  envelope  with  "  First  Lord  of  the  Treasury  " 
stamped  on  the  lower  left-hand  corner.  She  noticed 
that  it  was  addressed  to  Lady  Evenswood's  house,  and 
must  have  been  sent  on  post  haste.  She  tore  it  open. 
It  was  headed  "  Private  and  Confidential." 

"  Madame — I  am  directed  by  Mr  Disney  to  request  you 
to  state  in  writing,  for  his  consideration,  any  facts  which  may 
be  within  your  knowledge  as  to  the  circumstances  attendant 
on  the  marriage  of  the  late  Lady  Tristram  of  Blent,  and  the 
birth  of  her  son  Mr  Henry  Austen  Fitzhubert  Tristram.  I 
am  to  add  that  your  communication  will  be  considered  con- 
fidential.— I  am,  Madame,  Yours  faithfully, 

Broadstairs. 

"  Madame  Zabriska." 

"Cecily,  Cecily,  Cecily!"  Mina  darted  back  and 
thrust  this  wonderful  document  into  Cecily's  hands. 
"  He  does  mean  something,  you  see,  he  will  do  some- 
thing 1  "  she  cried.    "  Oh,  who's  Broadstairs,  I  wonder." 

Cecily  took  the  letter  and  read.  The  Imp  reappeared 
with  a  red  volume  in  her  hand. 

"  Viscount  Broadstairs — eldest  son  of  the  Earl  of 
Ramsgate !  "'  she  read  with  wide-open  eyes.  "  And  he 
says  he's  directed  to  write,  doesn't  he  ?  Well,  you  are 
funny  in  England !  But  I  don't  wonder  I  was  afraid  of 
Mr  Disney." 

"  Oh,  Mr  Disney's  secretary,  I  suppose.  But, 
Mina "    Cecily  was  alive  again  now,  but  her  awak- 

[245]^ 


Tristram  of  Blent 

ening  did  not  seem  to  be  a  pleasant  one.  She  turned 
suddenly  from  her  friend  and,  walking  as  far  of?  as  the 
little  room  would  let  her,  flung  herself  into  a  chair. 

"  What's  the  matter?  "  asked  Mina,  checked  in  her 
excited  gayety. 

"  What  will  Harry  care  about  anything  they  can  give 
him  without  Blent  ?  " 

Mina  flushed.  The  conspiracy  was  put  before  her — 
not  by  one  of  the  conspirators  but  by  her  who  was  the 
object  of  it.  She  remembered  Lady  Evenswood's  ques- 
tion and  Southend's.  She  had  answered  that  it  might 
not  much  matter  whether  Harry  liked  his  cousin  or  not. 
He  had  not  loved  Janie  Iver.  Where  was  the  differ- 
ence? 

"  He  won't  want  anything  if  he  can't  have  Blent. 
Mina,  did  they  say  anything  about  me  to  Mr  Disney?  " 

"  No,"  cried  Mina  eagerly. 

'*  But  they  will,  they  mean  to  ?  "  Cecily  was  leaning 
forward  eagerly  now. 

Mina  had  no  denial  ready.  She  seemed  rather  to 
hang  on  Cecily's  words  than  to  feel  any  need  of  speak- 
ing herself.  She  was  trying  to  follow  Cecily's  thoughts 
and  to  trace  the  cause  of  the  apprehension,  the  terror 
almost,  that  had  come  on  the  girl's  face. 

"  He'll  see  it — just  as  I  see  it !  "  Cecily  went  on, 
"  And,  Mina " 

She  paused  again.  Still  Mina  had  no  words,  and  no 
comfort  for  her.  This  sight  of  the  other  side  of  the 
question  was  too  sudden.  It  was  Harry  then,  and 
Harry  only,  who  had  really  been  in  her  thoughts  ;  and 
Cecily,  her  friend,  was  to  be  used  as  a  tool.  There 
might  be  little  ground  for  blaming  Southend  who  had 
never  seen  her,  or  Lady  Evenswood  who  had  been 
brought  in  purely  in  Harry's  interest.  But  how  stood 
Mina,  who  was  Cecily's  friend  ?  Yet  at  last  a  thought 
flashed  into  her  mind  and  gave  her  a  weapon. 

[246J 


Conspirators  and  a   Crux 

"  Well,  what  did  you  come  to  London  for  ?  "  she  cried 
defiantly.    "  Why  did  you  come,  unless  you  meant  that 

too?" 

Cecily  started  a  little  and  lay  back  m  her  chair. 

"  Oh,  I  don't  know,"  she  murmured  despondently. 
"  He  hates  me,  but  if  he's  offered  Blent  and  me  he'll — 
he'll  take  us  both,  Mina,  you  know  he  will.''^  An  iri- 
dignant  rush  of  color  came  on  her  cheeks.  "  Oh,  it's 
very  easy  for  you  !  " 

In  a  difficulty  of  that  sort  it  did  not  seem  that  even 
Mr  Disnev  could  be  of  much  avail. 

"  Oh,  you  Tristrams !  "  cried  Mina  in  despair. 


[247] 


XIX 

In  the  Matter  of  Blinkhampton 

PITY  for  the  commander  who,  while  engaging  the 
enemy  on  his  front  with  valor  and  success,  break- 
ing his  line  and  driving  him  from  his  position, 
finds  himself  assailed  in  the  rear  by  an  unexpected  or 
despised  foe  and  the  prize  of  victory  suddenly  wrenched 
from  him  !  His  fate  is  more  bitter  than  if  he  had  failed 
in  his  main  encounter,  his  self-reproaches  more  keen. 

Major  Duplay  was  awakening  to  the  fact  that  this 
was  his  situation.  Triumph  was  not  his  although  Harry 
Tristram  had  fled  from  the  battle.  Iver's  carefully 
guarded  friendliness  and  the  touch  of  motherly  com- 
passion in  his  wife's  manner,  Mrs  Trumbler's  tacit  re- 
quest (conveyed  by  a  meek  and  Christian  sympathy) 
that  he  should  bow  to  the  will  of  Providence,  Miss  S.'s 
malicious  questions  as  to  where  he  meant  to  spend  the 
winter  after  leaving  Merrion,  told  him  the  opinion  of 
the  world.  Janie  Iver  had  begun  to  think  flirtation 
wrong ;  and  there  was  an  altogether  new  and  remark- 
able self-assertion  about  Bob  Broadley.  The  last  thing 
annoyed  Duplay  most.  It  is  indeed  absurd  that  a 
young  man,  formerly  of  a  commendable  humility, 
should  think  a  change  of  demeanor  justified  merely 
because  one  young  woman,  herself  insignificant, 
chooses  for  reasons  good  or  bad  to  favor  him.  Duplay 
assumed  to  despise  Bob;  it  is  often  better  policy  to 
despise  people  than  to  enter  into  competition  with 
them,  and  it  is  always  rash  to  do  both.  These  and  other 
truths — as,  for  example,  that  for  some  purposes  it  is 


In  the  Matter   of   Blinkhampton 

better  not  to  be  forty-four — the  Major  was  learning. 
Was  there  any  grain  of  comfort  ?  It  lay  in  the  fact  that 
he  was  forty-four.  A  hypothetical,  now  impossible,  yet 
subtly  soothing  Major  of  thirty  routed  Bob  Broadley 
and  carried  all  before  him.  In  other  words  Duplay 
was  driven  back  to  the  Last  Ditch  of  Consolation. 
What  we  could  have  done  is  the  latest-tried  plaster  for 
the  wound  of  what  we  cannot  do ;  it  would  be  wise  to 
try  it  sometimes  a  little  earlier. 

From  the  orthodox  sentimentalist  he  could  claim  no 
compassion.  He  had  lost  not  his  heart's  love  but  a  very 
comfortable  settlement ;  he  was  wounded  more  in  his 
vanity  than  in  his  affections  ;  he  had  wasted  not  his  life, 
only  one  of  his  few  remaining  effective  summers.  But 
the  more  lax,  who  base  their  views  on  what  men  gen- 
erally are,  may  spare  him  one  of  those  less  bitter  tears 
which  they  appropriate  to  the  misfortunes  of  others.  If 
the  tear  as  it  falls  meets  a  smile, — why  not  ?  Such  en- 
counters are  hardly  unexpected  and  may  well  prove 
agreeable. 

There  was  another  disconsolate  person  in  the  valley 
of  the  Blent — little  Mr  Gainsborough,  left  alone  in  the 
big  house  with  a  note  from  his  daughter  commanding 
him  to  stay  there  and  to  say  nothing  to  anybody.  He 
was  lonely,  and  nervous  with  the  servants ;  the  curios 
gave  him  small  pleasure  since  he  had  not  bought  them, 
and,  if  he  had,  they  would  not  have  been  cheap.  For 
reasons  before  indicated,  Blentmouth  and  the  curiosity- 
shop  there  had  become  too  dangerous.  Besides,  he  had 
no  money ;  Cecily  had  forgotten  that  detail  in  her  hur- 
ried flight.  A  man  cannot  spend  more  than  a  portion 
of  his  waking  hours  in  a  library  or  over  pedigrees. 
Gainsborough  found  himself  regretting  London  and 
the  little  house.  If  we  divide  humanity  into  those  who 
do  things  and  those  who  have  to  get  out  of  the  way 
while  they  are  being  done  (just  as  reasonable  a  division 

[249J 


Tristram  of  Blent 

as  many  adopted  by  statisticians)  Gainsborough  be- 
longed to  the  latter  class ;  hke  most  of  us  perhaps,  but 
in  a  particularly  unmistakable  degree.  And  he  knew  he 
did — not  perhaps  like  most  of  us  in  that.  He  never 
thought  even  of  appealing  to  posterity. 

Meanwhile  Janie  Iver  was  behaving  as  a  pattern 
daughter,  cherishing  her  mother  and  father  and  makiag 
home  sweet,  exercising,  in  fact,  that  prudent  economy 
of  wilfulness  which  preserves  it  for  one  great  decisive 
struggle,  and  scorns  to  fritter  it  away  on  the  details  of 
daily  life.  Girls  have  adopted  these  tactics  from  the 
earliest  days  (so  it  is  recorded  or  may  be  presumed),  and 
wary  are  the  parents  who  are  not  hoodwinked  by  them 
or,  even  if  they  perceive,  are  altogether  unsoftened. 
Janie  was  very  saintly  at  Fairholme  ;  the  only  sins 
which  she  could  have  found  to  confess  (not  that  Mr 
Trumbler  favored  confession — quite  the  contrary)  were 
certain  suppressions  of  truth  touching  the  direction  in 
which  she  drove  her  dog-cart — and  even  these  were 
calculated  to  avoid  the  giving  of  pain.  As  for  the 
Tristrams — where  were  they?  They  seemed  to  have 
dropped  out  of  Janie's  story. 

Iver  needed  comfort.  There  is  no  disguising  it,  how- 
ever much  the  admission  may  damage  him  in  the  eyes  of 
that  same  orthodox  sentimentalist.  He  had  once  ex- 
pounded his  views  to  Mr  Jenkinson  Neeld  (or  rather 
one  of  his  expositions  of  them  has  been  recorded,  there 
having  been  more  than  one) — and  the  present  situa- 
tion did  not  satisfy  them.  Among  other  rehabilitations 
and  whitewashings,  that  of  the  cruel  father  might  well 
be  undertaken  by  an  ingenious  writer ;  if  Nero  had  had 
a  grown-up  daughter  there  would  have  been  the 
chance !  Anyhow  the  attempt  would  have  met  with 
some  sympathy  from  Iver.  Of  course  a  man  desires 
his  daughter's  happiness  (the  remark  is  a  platitude), 
but  he  may  be  allowed  to  feel  annoyance  at  the  precise 

[250] 


In  the  Matter  of   Blinkhamptqn 

form  in  which  it  reahzes — or  thinks  it  will  realize — it- 
self, a  shape  that  may  disappoint  the  aim  of  his  career. 
If  he  is  provided  with  a  son,  he  has  the  chance  of  a  more 
unselfish  benevolence ;  but  Iver  was  not.  Let  all  be 
said  that  could  be  said — Bob  Broadley  was  a  disap- 
pointment. Iver  would,  if  put  to  it,  have  preferred 
Duplav-  There  was  at  least  a  cosmopolitan  polish 
about  the  Major ;  drawing-rooms  would  not  appal  him 
nor  the  thought  of  going  to  Court  throw  him  into  a 
perspiration.  Iver  had  been  keen  to  find  out  the  truth 
about  Harry  Tristram,  as  keen  as  Major  Duplav.  At 
this  moment  both  of  them  were  wishing  that  the  truth 
had  never  been  discovered  by  them  nor  flung  in  the 
face  of  the  world  by  Harry  himself. 

"  But  darling  Janie  will  be  happy,"  Mrs  Iver  used  to 
say.    She  had  surrendered  very  easily. 

He  was  not  really  an  unnatural  ])arent  because  he 
growled  once  or  twice,  "  Darling  Janie  be  hanged !  " 
It  was  rather  his  wife's  attitude  of  mind  that  he  meant 
to  condemn. 

Bob  himself  was  hopeless  from  a  parent's  point  of 
view.  He  w-as  actually  a  little  touched  by  Mrs  Trum- 
bler's  way  of  looking  at  the  world ;  he  did  think — and 
confessed  it  to  Janie — that  there  was  something  very 
remarkable  in  the  way  Harry  Tristram  had  been  cleared 
from  his  path.  He  was  in  no  sense  an  advanced  thinker, 
and  people  in  love  are  apt  to  believe  in  what  are  called 
interpositions.  Further,  he  was  primitive  in  his  ideas; 
he  had  won  the  lady,  and  that  seemed  to  him  enough. 
It  was  enough,  if  he  could  keep  her ;  and  in  these  days 
that  really  depends  on  herself.  Moreover  he  had  no 
doubt  of  keeping  her  ;  his  primitiveness  appears  again  ; 
with  the  first  kiss  he  seemed  to  pass  from  slave  to 
master.  Many  girls  would  have  taught  him  better. 
Janie  was  not  one.  She  seemed  rather  to  acquiesce, 
being,  it  must  be  presumed,  also  of  a  somewhat  primi- 

[251] 


Tristram  of  Bl^nt 

tive  cast  of  mind.  It  was  terribly  clear  to  Iver  that  the 
pair  would  stand  to  one  another  and  settle  down  in 
inglorious  contentment  together  for  tlieir  lives.  Yes, 
it  was  worse  than  Duplay ;  something  might  have  been 
made  of  him.  As  for  Harry — Iver  used  to  end  by 
thinking  how  sensible  a  man  old  Mr  Neeld  was  ;  for  Mr 
Neeld  had  determined  to  hold  his  tongue. 

There  was  another  vexation,  of  a  different  kind  in- 
deed, but  also  a  check  in  his  success.  Blinkhampton 
was  not  going  quite  right.  Blinkhampton  was  a  pre- 
destined seaside  resort  on  the  South  Coast,  and  Iver, 
with  certain  associates,  meant  to  develop  it.  They  had 
bought  it  up,  and  laid  it  out  for  building,  and  arranged 
for  a  big  hotel  with  Birch  &  Company,  the  famous  fur- 
nishers. But  all  along  in  front  of  it — between  where 
the  street  now  was  and  the  esplanade  was  soon  to  be — 
ran  a  long  narrow  strip,  forming  the  estate  of  an  elderly 
gentleman  named  Masters.  Of  course  Masters  had  to 
be  bought  out,  the  whole  scheme  hanging  on  that. 
Iver,  keen  at  a  bargain,  hard  in  business  hours  (had 
not  Mina  Zabriska  discovered  that?),  confident  that 
nobody  would  care  to  incur  his  enmity — he  was  power- 
ful— by  forestalling  him,  had  refused  Masters  his  price  ; 
the  old  gentleman  would  have  to  come  down.  But 
some  young  men  stepped  in,  with  the  rashness  of  their 
youth,  and  acquired  an  option  of  purchase  from  Mas- 
ters. Iver  smiled  in  a  vexed  fashion,  but  was  not  dis- 
mayed. He  let  it  be  known  that  anybody  who  advanced 
money  to  the  young  men — Sloyd,  Sloyd,  and  Gurney 
was  the  firm — would  be  his  enemies ;  then  he  waited 
for  the  young  men  to  approach  him.  They  did  not 
come.  At  last,  pride  protesting,  prudence  insisting,  he 
wrote  and  suggested  that  they  might  probably  be  glad 
to  make  an  arrangement  with  him.  Mr  Sloyd — our  Mr 
Sloyd — wrote  back  that  they  had  found  a  capitalist — 
no  less  than  that — and  proposed  to  develop  their  estate 

[252J 


In  the  Matter  of  Blinkhampton 

themselves,  to  put  up  their  own  hotel,  also  a  row  of 
boarding-houses,  a  club,  a  winter  garden,  and  possibly 
an  aquarium.  Youth  and  a  sense  of  elation  caused 
Sloyd  to  add  that  they  would  always  be  glad  to  co- 
operate with  other  gentlemen  interested  in  Blink- 
hampton. 

Iver  had  many  irons  in  the  fire ;  he  could  no  more 
devote  himself  exclusively  and  personally  to  Blink- 
hampton than  Napoleon  could  spend  all  his  time  in  the 
Peninsula.  The  transaction  was  important,  yet  hardly 
vital ;  besides  Iver  himself  could  keep  his  ear  to  the 
telephone.  It  was  an  opportunity  for  Bob  to  win  his 
spurs ;  Iver  proposed  to  him  to  go  to  town  and  act  as 
his  representative. 

"  I'm  afraid  you'll  lose  the  game  if  I  play  it  for  you, 
Mr  Iver,"  responded  Bob,  with  a  shake  of  his  head  and 
a  good-humored  smile.  "  I'm  not  accustomed  to  that 
sort  of  job,  you  know." 

"  It  would  be  a  good  chance  for  you  to  begin  to  learn 
something  of  business." 

"  Well,  you  see,  farming's  my  business.  And  I  don't 
think  I'm  a  fool  at  that.  But  building  speculations 
and  so  on "    Bob  shook  his  head  again. 

The  progressive  man  gazed  in  wonder  at  the  station- 
ary.    (We  divide  humanity  again.) 

"  You've  no  desire  for — for  a  broader  sphere?"  he 
asked. 

"  W' ell,  I  like  a  quiet  life,  you  see — with  my  horses, 
and  my  crops,  and  so  on.  Don't  believe  I  could  stand 
the  racket."  So  far  as  physique  was  concerned,  Bob 
could  have  stood  penal  servitude  and  a  London  Season 
combined. 

"  But  it's  an  opening,"  Ivor  persisted,  by  now  actu- 
ally more  puzzled  than  angry.  "If  you  found  yourself 
at  home  in  the  work,  it  might  lead  to  anything."  He 
resisted  the  temptation  to  add,  "  Look  at  me !  "    Did 

[253] 


Tristram  of  Blent 

not  Fairholme,  its  lawns  and  green-houses,  say  as  much 
for  him  ? 

"  But  I  don't  know  that  I  want  anything,"  smiled 
Bob.    "  Of  course  I'll  have  a  shot  if  it'll  oblige  you," 

he  added.    "  But Well,  I'd  rather  not  risk  it,  you 

know." 

Janie  was  there.  Iver  turned  to  her  in  despair.  She 
was  smiling  at  Bob  in  an  approving  understanding  way. 

"  It  really  isn't  what  would  suit  Bob,  father,"  said 
she.  "  Besides,  if  he  went  into  your  business,  we  should 
have  to  be  so  much  in  town  and  hardly  ever  be  at  home 
at  Mingham." 

At  home  at  Mingham  !    What  a  destiny  !    Certainly 

Blent  was  in  the  same  valley,  but Well,  a  *'  seat  " 

is  one  thing,  and  a  farm's  another;  the  world  is  to 
blame  again,  no  doubt.  And  with  men  who  want  noth- 
ing, for  whom  the  word  "  opening  "  has  no  magic,  what 
is  to  be  done  ?  Abstractly  they  are  seen  to  be  a  neces- 
sary element  in  the  commvmity ;  but  they  do  not  make 
good  sons  or  sons-in-law  for  ambitious  men.  Janie, 
when  she  had  seen  Bob,  an  unrepentant  cheerful  Bob, 
on  his  way,  came  back  to  find  her  father  sitting 
sorrowful. 

"  Dearest  father,  I'm  so  sorry,"  she  said,  putting  her 
arms  round  his  neck. 

He  squared  his  shoulders  to  meet  facts ;  he  could 
always  do  that.  Moreover  he  looked  ahead — that 
power  was  also  among  his  gifts — and  saw  how  pres- 
ently this  thing,  like  other  things,  would  become  a  mat- 
ter of  course. 

"  That's  settled,  Janie,"  said  he.  "  I've  made  my  last 
suggestion." 

She  went  off  in  distress  to  her  mother,  but  was  told 
to  "  let  him  alone."  The  wisdom  of  woman  and  of 
years  spoke.  Presently  Iver  went  out  to  play  golf. 
But  his  heart  was  still  bitter  within  him ;  he  could  not 

[254] 


In  the  Matter   of  Blinkhampton 

resist  the  sight  of  a  possible  sympathizer ;  he  mentioned 
to  the  Major,  who  was  his  antagonist  in  the  game,  that 
it  was  not  often  that  a  young  fellow  refused  such  a 
chance  as  he  had  just  offered  in  vain  to  Bob  Broadlcy. 
His  prospective  relationship  to  Bob  had  reached  the 
stage  of  being  assumed  between  Duplay  and  him,  al- 
though it  had  not  yet  been  explicitly  mentioned. 

"  I  wish  somebody  would  try  me !  "  laughed  the 
Major.    '*  I'm  kicking  my  heels  all  day  down  here." 

Iver  made  no  reply  and  played  the  round  in  silence. 
He  lost,  perhaps  because  he  was  thinking  of  something 
else.  He  liked  Duplay,  he  thought  him  clever,  and, 
looking  back  on  the  history  of  the  Tristram  affair,  he 
felt  somehow  that  he  would  like  to  do  the  Major  a  good 
turn.  Were  they  not  in  a  sense  companions  in  mis- 
fortune? 

Two  days  later  Duplay  sat  in  the  offices  of  Sloyd, 
Sloyd,  and  Gurney,  as  Iver's  representative ;  his  mission 
was  to  represent  to  the  youthful  firm  the  exceeding  folly 
of  their  conduct  in  regard  to  Blinkhampton.  His  ready 
brain  had  assimilated  all  the  facts,  and  they  lost  nothing 
by  his  ready  tongue.  He  even  made  an  impression  on 
the  enemy. 

"  It  doesn't  do  to  look  at  one  transaction  only,  Mr 
Sloyd,"  he  reminded  the  spruce  but  rather  nervous 
young  man.  "  It'll  pay  you  to  treat  us  reasonably.  Mr 
Iver's  a  good  friend  to  have  and  a  bad  enemy." 

"  I'm  quite  alive  to  all  that ;   but  we  have  obtained  a 

legitimate  advantage  and "    Sloyd  was  evidently  a 

little  puzzled,  and  he  glanced  at  the  clock. 

"  We  recognize  that ;  we  offer  you  two  thousand 
pounds.  We  take  over  your  option  and  give  you  two 
thousand."  This  was  the  figure  that  Iver  and  he  had 
decided  would  tempt  the  young  firm  ;  their  fear  of  the 
great  Mr  Iver  would  make  them  content  with  that. 

Sloyd  was  half  inclined  to  be  content ;  the  firm  would 

[255] 


Tristram  of  Blent 

make  a  thousand ;  the  balance  would  be  good  interest 
on  the  capitalist's  ten  thousand  pounds ;  and  there 
would  still  be  enough  of  a  victory  to  soothe  the  feelings 
of  everybody  concerned. 

"  I'm  expecting  the  gentleman  who  is  associated  with 
us.  If  you'll  excuse  me,  I'll  step  out  and  see  if  he's 
arrived." 

Duplay  saw  through  the  suggestion,  but  he  had  no 
objection  to  permitting  a  consultation.  He  lit  his  cigar 
and  waited  while  Sloyd  was  away.  The  Major  was  in 
greater  contentment  with  himself  than  he  had  been 
since  he  recognized  his  defeat.  Next  to  succeeding, 
it  is  perhaps  the  pleasantest  thing  to  make  people  regret 
that  you  have  not  succeeded.  If  he  proved  his  capacity 
Iver  would  regret  what  had  happened  more ;  possibly 
even  Janie  would  come  to  regret  it.  And  he  was  glad 
to  be  using  his  brains  again.  If  they  took  the  two  thou- 
sand, if  Iver  got  the  Masters  estate  and  entire  control 
of  Blinkhampton  for  twenty-two  thousand,  Duplay 
would  have  had  a  hand  in  a  good  bargain.  He  thought 
the  Sloyds  would  yield.  "  Be  strong  about  it,"  Iver  had 
said.  "  These  young  fellows  have  plenty  of  enterprise, 
plenty  of  shrewdness,  but  they  haven't  got  the  grit  to 
take  big  chances.  They'll  catch  at  a  certainty."  Sloyd's 
manner  had  gone  far  to  bear  out  this  opinion. 

Sloyd  returned,  but,  instead  of  coming  in  directly,  he 
held  the  door  and  allowed  another  to  pass  in  front  of 
him.  Duplay  jumped  up  with  a  muttered  exclamation. 
What  the  deuce  was  Harry  Tristram  doing  there? 
Harry  advanced,  holding  out  his  hand. 

"  We  neither  of  us  thought  we  should  meet  in  this 
way,  Major  Duplay?  The  world's  full  of  surprises. 
I've  learnt  that  anyhow,  and  I  dare  say  you've  known  it 
a  long  while." 

"  You're  in  this  business  ?  "  cried  the  Major,  too  as- 
tonished  for  any  preamble. 

[256] 


In  the  Matter   of  Blinkhampton 

Harry  nodded.  "  Let's  get  through  it,"  he  said. 
"  Because  it's  very  simple.  Sloyd  and  I  have  made  up 
our  minds  exactly  what  we  ought  to  have." 

It  was  the  same  manner  that  the  Major  remembered 
seeing  by  the  Pool — perhaps  a  trifle  less  aggressive,  but 
making  up  for  that  byan  even  increased  self-confidence. 
Duplay  had  thought  of  his  former  successful  rival  as  a 
broken  man.  He  was  not  that.  He  had  never  thought 
of  him  as  a  speculator  in  building  land.  Seemingly  that 
was  what  he  had  become. 

Harry  sat  down  by  the  table,  Sloyd  standing  by  him 
and  spreading  out  before  him  a  plan  of  Blinkhampton 
and  the  elevation  of  a  row  of  buildings. 

"  You  ask  us,"  Harry  went  on  resentfully,  almost 
accusingly,  "  to  throw  up  this  thing  just  when  we're 
ready  to  go  ahead.  Everything's  in  train ;  we  could 
begin  work  to-morrow." 

"  Come,  come,  where  are  you  going  to  get  the 
money  ?  "  interrupted  Duplay.  He  felt  that  he  must 
assert  himself. 

"  Never  mind,  we  can  get  it ;  or  we  can  wait  till 
we  do.  We  shut  you  out  just  as  badly  whether  we 
leave  the  old  buildings  or  put  up  new.  However,  we 
shall  get  it.    I'm  satisfied  as  to  that." 

"  You've  heard  my  ofifer?  " 

"  Yes,"  smiled  Harry.  "  The  reward  for  getting 
ahead  of  Mr  Iver  is,  it  seems,  two  thousand  pounds.  It 
must  be  done  pretty  often  if  it's  as  cheap  as  that!  1 
hope  he's  well  ?  " 

"  Quite  well,  Mr  Tristram,  thank  you.  But  when  you 
talk  of  getting  ahead  of  him " 

"  Well,  I  put  it  plainly;  that's  all.  I'm  new  to  this, 
and  I  dare  say  Sloyd  here  would  put  it  better.  But  my 
money's  in  it,  so  I  like  to  have  my  say." 

Both  the  dislike  and  the  reluctant  respect  of  old  days 
were  present  in  the  Major's  mind.     He  felt  that  the 

I.257J 


Tristram  of  Blent 

quality  on  whose  absence  Iver  had  based  his  calcula- 
tions had  been  supplied.  Harry  might  be  ignorant. 
Sloyd  could  supply  the  knowledge.  Harry  had  that 
grit  which  hitherto  the  firm  had  lacked.  Harry  seemed 
to  guess  something  of  what  was  passing  through  his 
adversary's  mind. 

*'  I  don't  want  to  be  anything  but  friendly.  Neither 
Sloyd  nor  I  want  that — especially  toward  Mr  Iver — or 
toward  you,  Major.  We've  been  neighbors."  He 
smiled  and  went  on,  smiling  still :  "  Oddly  enough,  I've 
said  what  I'm  going  to  say  to  you  once  before — on  a 
different  occasion.  You  seem  to  have  been  trying  to 
frighten  us.    I  am  not  to  be  frightened,  that's  all." 

Sloyd  whispered  in  his  ear;  Duplay  guessed  that  he 
counselled  more  urbanity  ;  Harry  turned  from  him  with 
a  rather  contemptuous  little  laugh.  "  Oh,  I've  got  my 
living  to  earn  now,"  Duplay  heard  him  whisper — and 
reflected  that  he  had  never  wasted  much  time  on  polite- 
ness, even  before  that  necessity  came  upon  him. 

It  was  strange  that  Sloyd  did  not  try  to  take  any  part 
in  the  discussion.  He  wore  an  air  of  deference,  partly 
due  no  doubt  to  Harry's  ability,  yet  having  unmistak- 
ably a  social  flavor  about  it.  Harry's  lordlinesses  clung 
to  him  still,  and  had  their  effect  on  his  business  partner. 
Duplay  lodged  an  angry  inward  protest  to  the  effect 
that  they  had  none  whatever  on  him. 

"  Perhaps  I'd  better  just  say  what  we  want,"  Harry 
pursued.  "  We've  paid  Masters  twenty  thousand.  We 
may  be  five  hundred  more  out  of  pocket.  Never  mind 
that."  He  pushed  away  the  plans  and  elevations. 
"  You're  empowered  to  treat,  I  suppose?  "  he  asked. 
Sloyd  had  whispered  to  him  again. 

"  No,"  said  Duplay.  "  But  as  a  final  offer,  I  think  I 
can  pledge  Mr  Iver  to  go  as  far  as  five  thousand  (over 
and  above  the  twenty  thousand  of  course) — to  cover 
absolutely  evervthing,  you  know." 

[258] 


In   the  Matter   of   Blinkhampton 

"  i\lnltiply  your  twenty-five  by  two,  and  we're  your 
men,"  said  Harry. 

"  Multiply  it  by  two  ?  Fifty  thousand  ?  Oh,  non- 
sense !  " 

"  Twenty  out  of  pocket — thirty  profit.  I  call  it  very 
reasonable." 

Major  Duplay  rose  with  a  decisive  air. 

"  I'm  afraid  I'm  wasting  your  time,"  he  said,  "  and 
my  own  too.    I  must  say  good-afternoon." 

"  Pray,    Major    Duplay,   don't    be    so    abrupt,    sir. 

We've "    It  was  Sloyd  who  spoke,  with  an  eager 

gesture  as  though  he  would  detain  the  visitor.  Harry 
turned  on  him  with  his  ugliest  haughtiest  scowl. 

"  I  thought  you'd  left  this  to  me,  Sloyd  ?  "  he  said. 

Sloyd  subsided,  apologetic  but  evidently  terrified. 
Alas,  that  the  grit  had  been  supplied !  But  for  that  a 
triumph  must  have  awaited  the  Major.  Harry  turned 
to  Duplay. 

"  I  asked  you  before  if  you'd  authority  to  treat.  I 
ask  you  now  if  you've  authority  to  refuse  to  treat." 

"  I've  authority  to  refuse  to  discuss  absurdities." 

"Doubtless.  And  to  settle  what  are  absurdities? 
Look  here.  I  don't  ask  you  to  accept  that  proposal 
without  referring  to  Mr  Iver.  I  merely  say  that  is  the 
proposal,  and  that  we  give  Mr  Iver  three  days  to  con- 
sider it.    After  that  our  ofifer  is  withdrawn." 

Sloyd  was  biting  his  nails — aye,  those  nails  that  he 
got  trimmed  in  Regent  Street  twice  a  week ;  critical 
transactions  must  bring  grist  to  those  skilled  in  mani- 
cure. Duplay  glanced  from  his  troubled  face  to  Harry's 
solid,  composed,  even  amused  mask. 

"  And  you  might  add,"  Harry  went  on,  "  that  it  would 
be  a  very  good  thing  if  Mr  Iver  saw  his  way  to  run  up 
and  have  a  talk  with  me.  I  think  I  could  make  him  see 
the  thing  from  our  point  of  view."  Something  seemed 
to  occur  to  him.    "  You  must  tell  him  that  in  ordinary 

[259] 


Tristram  of  Blent 

circumstances  I  should  propose  to  call  on  him  and  to 
come  wherever  he  was,  but— well,  he'll  understand  that 
I  don't  want  to  go  to  Blentmouth  just  now." 

The  implied  apology  relieved  what  Duplay  had  begun 
to  feel  an  intolerable  arrogance,  but  it  was  a  concession 
of  form  only,  and  did  not  touch  the  substance.  The 
substance  was  and  remained  an  ultimatum.  The  Major 
felt  aggrieved ;  he  had  been  very  anxious  to  carry  his 
first  commission  through  triumphantly  and  with  cdat. 
For  the  second  time  Harry  Tristram  was  in  his  path. 

Harry  rose.  "  That's  all  we  can  do  to-day,"  he  said. 
"  We  shall  wait  to  hear  from  Mr  Iver." 

"  I  really  don't  feel  justified  in  putting  such  a  proposi- 
tion before  him." 

"  Oh,  that's  for  you  to  consider,"  shrugged  Harry. 
"  I  think  I  would  though,  if  I  were  you.  At  the  worst, 
it  will  justify  you  in  refusing  to  do  business  with  us. 
Do  you  happen  to  be  walking  down  toward  Pall  Mall  ?  " 
Sloyd's  offices  were  in  Mount  Street.  "  Good-day, 
Sloyd.    I'll  drop  in  to-morrow." 

With  an  idea  that  some  concession  might  still  be 
forthcoming,  not  from  any  expectation  of  enjoying  his 
walk,  the  Major  consented  to  accompany  Harry. 

"  It  was  a  great  surprise  to  see  you  appear,"  he  said 
as  they  started.    "  So  odd  a  coincidence  !  " 

"  Not  at  all,"  smiled  Harry.  "  You  guess  why  I  went 
into  it  ?  No  ?  Well,  of  course,  I  know  nothing  about 
such  things  really.  But  Sloyd  happened  to  mention 
that  Iver  wanted  to  buy,  so  I  thought  the  thing  must 
be  worth  buying,  and  I  looked  into  it."  He  laughed 
a  little.  "  That's  one  of  the  penalties  of  a  reputation 
like  Iver's,  isn't  it?" 

"  But  I  didn't  know  you'd  taken  to  business  at  all." 

"  Oh,  one  must  do  something.  I  can't  sit  down  on 
four  hundred  a  year,  you  know.  Besides,  this  is  hardly 
business.    By-the-bye,  though,  I  ought  to  be  as  much 

[260] 


In   the   Matter   of   Blinkhampton 

surpiised  to  see  you.  We've  both  lost  our  situation,  is 
that  it,  Major?" 

Insensibly  the  Major  began  to  find  him  rather  pleas- 
anter,  not  a  man  he  would  ever  like  really,  but  all 
the  same  more  tolerable  than  he  had  been  at  Blent ; 
so  Harry's  somewhat  audacious  reference  was  received 
with  a  grim  smile. 

"  I  knocked  you  out,  you  know,"  Harry  pursued. 
"  Left  to  himself,  I  don't  believe  old  Bob  Broadley 
would  ever  have  moved.    But  I  put  him  up  to  it." 

"What?"     Duplay  had  not  expected  this. 

"  Well,  you  tried  to  put  me  out,  you  see.  Besides, 
Janie  Iver  Hked  him,  and  she  didn't  care  about  you — 
or  me  either,  for  that  matter.  So  just  before  I — well, 
disappeared — T  told  Bob  that  he'd  win  if  he  went  ahead. 
And  I  gather  he  has  won,  hasn't  he?  " 

A  brief  nod  from  Duplay  answered  him  ;  he  was  still 
revolving  the  news  about  Bob  Broadley. 

"  I'm  afraid  I  haven't  made  you  like  me  any  better," 
said  Harry  with  a  laugh.  "  And  I  don't  go  out  of  my 
way  to  get  myself  disliked.  Do  you  see  why  I  men- 
tioned that  little  fact  about  Bob  Broadley  just  now?  " 

"  I  confess  I  don't,  unless  you  wished  to  annoy  me. 
Or — pardon — perhaps  you  thought  it  fair  that  I  should 
know?" 

"  Neither  the  one  nor  the  other.  I  didn't  do  it  from 
the  personal  point  of  view  at  all.  You  see.  Bob  had  a 
strong  position — and  didn't  know  it." 

Duplay  glanced  at  him.  "  Well,"  he  said,  "  what  you 
did  didn't  help  you,  though  it  hurt  me  perhaps." 

"  I  told  him  he  had  a  strong  position.  Then  he  took 
it.  Hullo,  here  we  are  in  Pall  Alall.  Now  you  see,  don't 
you.  Major?  " 

"  No,  I  don't."    Duplay  was  short  in  manner  again. 

"  You  don't  see  any  parallel  between  Bob's  position 
and  our  friend's  up  there  in  Mount  Street  ?  "     Harry 

[261] 


Tristram  of  Blent 

laughed  again  as  he  held  out  his  hand.  "  Well,  you  tell 
the  story  to  Iver  and  see  if  he  does,"  he  suggested, 

"  Oh,  that's  what  you  mean  ?  "  growled  Duplay. 

"  Yes,"  assented  Harry,  almost  gleefully.  "  That's 
what  I  mean ;  only  this  time  it  won't  hurt  you,  and  I 
think  it  w^ill  help  me.  You've  done  all  you  could,  you 
know." 

The  touch  of  patronage  came  again.  Duplay  had 
hard  work  to  keep  his  temper  under.  Yet  now  it  was 
rather  annoyance  that  he  felt  than  the  black  dislike  that 
he  used  to  harbor.  Harry's  misfortune  had  lessened 
that.  If  only  Harry  had  been  more  chastened  by  his 
misfortune  the  annoyance  might  have  gone  too.  Un- 
fortunately, the  young  man  seemed  almost  exultant. 

"  Well,  good-by.  Write  to  Sloyd — unless  Iver  de- 
cides to  come  up.  And  don't  forget  that  little  story 
about  Bob  Broadley!  Because  you'll  find  it  useful,  if 
you  think  of  frightening  Sloyd.  He  can't  move  without 
me — and  I  don't  move  without  my  price." 

"  You  moved  from  Blent,"  Duplay  reminded  him, 
stung  to  a  sudden  mahce. 

"  Yes,"  said  Harry  thoughtfully.  "  Yes,  so  I  did. 
Well,  I  suppose  I  had  my  price.  Good-by."  He 
turned  away  and  walked  quickly  down  the  street. 

"  What  was  his  price  ?  "  asked  the  Major,  puzzled. 
He  was  not  aware  that  Harry  had  got  anything  out  of 
his  surrender ;  and  even  Harry  himself  seemed  rather 
to  conclude  that,  since  he  had  moved,  he  must  have  got 
his  price  than  to  say  that  he  had  got  it  or  to  be  able  to 
tell  what  it  was. 

But  all  that  was  not  the  question  now.  Duplay 
sought  the  telegraph  office  and  informed  Iver  of  the 
uncompromising  attitude  of  the  enemy.  He  added  that 
Harry  Tristram  was  in  the  business  and  that  Harry 
suggested  an  interview.  It  was  perhaps  the  most  signi- 
ficant tribute  that  Harry  had  yet  received  when,  after 

[262] 


In   the  Matter   of  Blinkhampton 

a  few  minutes  of  surprise  and  a  few  more  of  considera- 
tion, Iver  telegraphed  back  that  he  would  come  up  to 
town,  and  wished  an  appointment  to  be  made  for  him 
with  Mr  Tristram.  It  was  something  to  force  Napo- 
leon to  come  to  the  Peninsula. 

In  fact,  the  only  thing  that  could  upset  Iver's  plans 
was  blank  defiance.  Reviewing  his  memories  of  Harry 
Tristram,  he  knew  that  defiance  was  just  what  he  had 
to  fear.  It  was  in  the  blood  of  the  Tristrams,  and  pru- 
dence made  no  better  a  resistance  than  propriety. 


[263] 


XX 

The  Tristram  Way — A  Specimen 


H 


ARRY  TRISTRAAI  had  led  Lady  Evens-  , 
wood  to  believe  that  he  would  inform  himself 
of  his  cousin's  state  of  mind,  or  even  open  di- 
rect communication  with  her.  He  had  done  nothing 
to  redeem  this  implied  promise,  although  the  remem- 
brance of  it  had  not  passed  out  of  his  mind.  But  he 
was  disinclined  to  fulfil  it.  In  the  first  place,  he 
was  much  occupied  with  the  pursuits  and  interests  of 
his  new  life ;  secondly,  he  saw  no  way  to  approach  her 
in  which  he  would  not  seem  a  disagreeable  reminder ; 
he  might  even  be  taken  for  a  beggar  or  at  least  regarded 
as  a  reproachful  suppliant.  The  splendor,  the  dramatic 
effect  of  his  surrender  and  of  the  scene  which  had  led 
up  to  it,  would  be  endangered  and  probably  spoilt  by  a 
resumption  of  intercourse  between  them.  His  disap- 
pearance had  been  magnificent — no  other  conclusion 
could  explain  the  satisfaction  with  which  he  looked 
back  on  the  episode.  There  was  no  material  yet  for  a 
reappearance  equally  striking.  When  he  thought  about 
her — which  was  not  very  often  just  now — it  was  not  to 
say  that  he  would  never  meet  her  again ;  he  liked  her 
too  well,  and  she  was  too  deeply  bound  up  with  the  as- 
sociations of  his  life  for  that ;  but  it  was  to  decide  to 
postpone  the  meeting,  and  to  dream  perhaps  of  some 
progress  or  turn  of  events  which  should  present  him 
with  his  opportunity,  and  invest  their  renewed  acquaint- 
ance with  an  atmosphere  as  unusual  and  as  stimulating 
as  that  in  which  their  first  days  together  had  been  spent. 
Thus  thinking  of  her  only  as  she  affected  him.  he  re- 

[264] 


The  Tristram   Way  — A   Specimen 

niained  at  heart  insensible  to  the  aspect  of  the  case 
which  Lady  Evenswood  had  commended  to  his  notice. 
Cecily's  possible  tinhappiness  did  not  come  home  to 
him.  After  all,  she  had  everything  and  he  nothing — 
and  even  he  was  not  insupportably  unhappy.  His  idea, 
perhaps,  was  that  Blent  and  a  high  position  would  con- 
sole most  folk  for  somebody  else's  bad  luck ;  men  in 
bad  luck  themselves  will  easily  take  such  a  view  as 
that ;  their  intimacy  makes  a  second-hand  acquaint- 
ance with  sorrow  seem  a  trifling  trouble. 

Yet  he  had  known  his  mother  well.  And  he  had 
made  his  surrender.  Well,  only  a  very  observant  man 
can  tell  what  his  own  moods  may  be  ;  it  is  too  much  to 
ask  anybody  to  prophesy  another's ;  and  the  last  thing 
a  man  appreciates  is  the  family  peculiarities — unless 
he  happens  not  to  share  them. 

Southend  was  working  quietly ;  aided  by  Jenkinson 
Neeld,  he  had  prepared  an  elaborate  statement  and  fired 
it  in  at  Mr  Disney's  door,  himself  retreating  as  hastily  as 
the  urchin  who  has  thrown  a  cracker.  Lady  Evens- 
wood  was  trying  to  induce  her  eminent  cousin  to  come 
to  tea.  The  Imp,  in  response  to  that  official  missive 
which  had  made  such  an  impression  on  her,  was  com- 
piling her  reminiscences  of  Heidelberg  and  Addie  Tris- 
tram. Everybody  w^as  at  work,  and  it  was  vaguely 
understood  that  Mr  Disney  was  considering  the  matter, 
at  least  that  he  had  not  consigned  all  the  documents 
to  the  waste-paper  basket  and  the  writers  to  perdition — 
which  was  a  great  point  gained  with  Mr  Disney.  "  No 
hurry,  give  me  time  " — "  don't  push  it  " — '*  wait  " — 
"  do  nothing  " — "  the  status  quo  " — all  these  various 
phrases  expressed  Lord  Southend's  earnest  and  re- 
iterated advice  to  the  conspirators.  A  barony  had,  in 
his  judgment,  begun  to  be  a  thing  which  might  be 
mentioned  without  a  smile.  And  the  viscounty — Well, 
said  Lady  Evenswood,  if  Robert  were  once  convinced, 

[265] 


Tristram  of  Blk-nt 

the  want  of  precedents  would  not  stop  him  ;  precedents 
must,  after  all,  be  made,  and  why  should  not  Robert 
make  them  ? 

This  then,  the  moment  when  all  the  wise  and  experi- 
enced people  were  agreed  that  nothing  could,  should,  or 
ought  to  be  done,  was  the  chance  for  a  Tristram.  Addie 
would  have  seized  it  without  an  instant's  hesitation ; 
Cecily,  her  blood  unavoidably  diluted  with  a  strain  of 
Gainsborough,  took  two  whole  days  to  make  the  plunge 
— two  days  and  a  struggle,  neither  of  which  would  have 
liappened  had  she  been  Addie.  But  she  did  at  last 
reach  the  conclusion  that  immediate  action  was  neces- 
sary, that  she  was  the  person  to  act,  that  she  could  en- 
dure no  more  delay,  that  she  must  herself  go  to  Harry 
and  do  the  one  terrible  thing  which  alone  suited,  met, 
and  could  save  the  situation.  It  was  very  horrible  to 
her.  Here  was  its  last  and  irresistible  fascination. 
Mina  supplied  Harry's  address — ostensibly  for  the  pur- 
pose of  a  letter ;  nothing  else  was  necessary  but  a  han- 
som cab. 

In  his  quiet  room  in  Duke  Street,  Harry  was  working- 
out  some  details  of  the  proposed  buildings  at  Blink- 
hampton.  Iver  was  to  come  to  town  next  day,  and 
Harry  thought  that  the  more  entirely  ready  they 
seemed  to  go  on,  the  more  eager  Iver  would  be  to  stop 
them ;  so  he  was  at  it  with  his  elevations,  plans,  and 
estimates.  It  was  just  six  o'clock,  and  a  couple  of 
quiet  hours  stretched  before  him.  Nothing  was  in  his 
mind  except  Blinkhampton ;  he  had  forgotten  himself 
and  his  past  fortunes,  Blent  and  the  rest  of  it ;  he  had 
even  forgotten  the  peculiarities  of  his  own  family.  He 
heard  with  most  genuine  vexation  that  a  lady  must  see 
him  on  urgent  business ;  but  he  had  not  experience 
enough  to  embolden  him  to  send  word  that  he  was  out. 

Such  a  message  would  probably  have  availed  noth- 
ing.   Cecily  was  already  at  the  door;   she  was  in  the 

[266] 


The   Tristram   Way  —  A   Specimen 

room  before  he  had  done  giving  directions  that  she 
should  be  admitted.  Again  the  hkeness  which  had 
already  worked  on  him  so  powerfully  struck  him  with 
unlessencd  force ;  for  its  sake  he  sprang  forward  to 
greet  her  and  met  her  outstretched  hands  witii  his. 
There  w-as  no  appearance  of  embarrassment  about  her, 
rather  a  great  gladness  and  a  triumph  in  her  own  cour- 
age in  coming.  She  seemed  quite  sure  that  she  had 
done  the  right  thing. 

"  You  didn't  come  to  me,  so  I  came  to  you,"  she  ex- 
plained, as  though  the  explanation  were  quite  sul^cient. 

She  brought  everything  back  to  him  very  strongly — 
and  in  a  moment  banished  Blinkhampton. 

"  Does  anybody  know  you've  come?  " 

"  No,"  she  smiled.  That  was  a  part  of  the  fun. 
"  Mina  didn't  know  I  was  going  out.  You  see  every- 
body's been  doing  something  except  me  and " 

"  Everybody  doing  something?    Doing  what?  " 

"  Oh,  never  mind  now.    Nothing  of  any  real  use." 

"  There's  nothing  to  do,"  said  Harry  with  a  smile  and 
a  shrug. 

She  was  a  little  disappointed  to  find  him  looking  so 
well,  so  cheerful,  so  busy.  But  the  new  impression  was 
not  strong  enough  to  upset  the  preconceptions  with 
which  she  had  come.  "  I've  come  to  tell  vou  I  can't 
bear  it,"  she  said.  "  Oh,  w4iy  did  vou  ever  do  it, 
Harry?" 

"  On  my  honor  I  don't  know,"  he  admitted  after  a 
moment's  thought.  "Won't  you  sit  down?"  He 
watched  her  seat  herself,  actually  hoping  for  the  famous 
attitude.  Cut  she  w^as  too  excited  for  it.  She  sat  up- 
right, her  hands  clasped  on  her  knees.  Her  air  was  one 
of  gravity,  of  tremulous  importance.  She  realized  what 
she  was  going  to  do  ;  if  she  had  failed  to  understand  its 
very  unusual  character  she  would  probably  never  have 
done  it  at  all. 

[267J 


Tristram  of  Blent 

"  I  can't  bear  this  state  of  things,"  she  began.  "  I 
can't  endure  it  any  longer." 

"  Oh,  I  can,  I'm  all  right.  I  hope  you  haven't  been 
worrying  ?  " 

"  Worr3dng!  I've  robbed  you,  robbed  you  of  every- 
thing. Oh,  1  know  you  did  it  yourself !  That  makes  it 
worse.    How  did  I  come  to  make  you  do  it?  " 

"  I  don't  know,"  he  said  again.  "  Well,  you  seemed 
so  in  your  place  at  Blent.    Somehow  you  made  me  feel 

an    interloper.      And "      He    paused    a    moment. 

"  Yes,  I'm  glad,"  he  ended. 

"  No,  no,  you  mustn't  be  glad,"  she  cried  quickly. 
"  Because  it's  unendurable,  unendurable  !  " 

"  To  you  ?  It's  not  to  me.  I  thought  it  might  be. 
It  isn't." 

"  Yes,  to  me,  to  me  !  Oh,  end  it  for  me,  Harry,  end  it 
for  me !  " 

She  was  imploring,  she  was  the  suppliant.  The  re- 
versal of  parts,  strange  in  itself,  hardly  seemed  strange 
to  Harry  Tristram.  And  it  made  him  quite  his  old  self 
again.  He  felt  that  he  had  something  to  give.  But  her 
next  words  shattered  that  delusion. 

"  You  must  take  it  back.  Let  me  give  it  back  to 
you,"  she  prayed. 

He  was  silent  a  full  minute  before  he  answered  slowly 
and  coldly : 

"  From  anybody  else  I  should  treat  that  as  an  insult ; 
with  you  I'm  willing  to  think  it  merely  ignorance.  In 
either  case  the  absurdity's  the  same."  He  turned  away 
from  her  with  a  look  of  distaste,  almost  of  disgust. 
"  How  in  the  world  could  you  do  it  ?  "  he  added  by  way 
of  climax. 

"  I  could  do  it.  In  one  way  I  could."  She  rose  as  he 
turned  back  to  her.  "  I  want  you  to  have  Blent. 
You're  the  proper  master  of  Blent.  Do  you  think  I 
want  to  have  it  by  accident  ?  " 

[268] 


The  Tristram   Way  —  A   Specimen 

"  You  have  it  by  law,  not  by  accident,"  he  answered 
curtly.  He  was  growing  angry.  "  Why  do  you  come 
here  and  unsettle  me  ?  "  he  demanded.  "  I  wasn't  think- 
ing of  it.    And  then  you  come  here  !  " 

She  was  apologetic  no  longer.    She  faced  him  boldly. 

"  You  ought  to  think  of  it,"  she  insisted.  "  And,  yes, 
I've  come  here  because  it  was  right  for  me  to  come,  be- 
cause I  couldn't  respect  myself  unless  I  came.  I  want 
you  to  take  back  Blent." 

"  What  infernal  nonsense  !  "  he  exclaimed.  "  You 
know  it's  impossible." 

"  No,"  she  said ;  she  was  calm  but  her  breath  came 
quick.    "  There's  one  way  in  which  it's  possible." 

In  an  instant  he  understood  her ;  there  was  no  need 
of  more  words.  She  knew  herself  to  be  understood  as 
she  looked  at  him  ;  and  for  a  while  she  looked  steadily. 
But  his  gaze  too  was  long,  and  it  became  very  search- 
ing, so  that  presently,  in  spite  of  her  efforts,  she  felt 
herself  flushing  red,  and  her  eyes  fell.  The  room  had 
become  uncomfortably  quiet  too.    At  last  he  spoke. 

"  I  suppose  you  remember  what  I  told  you  about 
Janie  Iver,"  he  said,  "  and  that's  how  you  came  to 
think  I  might  do  this.  You  must  see  that  that  was 
different.     I  gave  as  much  as  I  got  there.     She  was 

rich,  I  was "    He  smiled  sourly.    "  I  was  Tristram 

of  Blent.    You  are  Tristram  of  Blent,  I  am "    He 

shrugged  his  shoulders. 

He  made  no  reference  to  the  personal  side  of  the  case. 
She  was  not  hurt,  she  was  enormously  relieved. 

"  I'm  not  incUned  to  be  a  pensioner  on  my  wife,"  he 
said. 

She  opened  her  lips  to  speak  ;  she  was  within  an  ace 
of  telling  him  that,  if  this  and  that  went  well,  he  would 
have  so  assured  and  recognized  a  position  that  none 
could  throw  stones  at  him.  Her  words  died  away  in 
face  of  the  percmptorv  finality  of  his  words  and  the 

'    [269J 


Tristram  of  Blent 

bitter  anger  on  his  face.  She  sat  silent  and  forlorn, 
wondering  what  had  become  of  her  resolve  and  her 
inspiration. 

"  In  my  place  you  would  feel  as  I  do,"  he  said  a 
moment  later.  His  tone  was  milder.  "  You  can't  deny 
it,"  he  insisted.  "  Look  me  in  the  face  and  deny  it  if 
you  can.    I  know  you  too  well." 

For  some  minutes  longer  she  sat  still.  Then  she  got 
up  with  a  desolate  air.  Everything  seemed  over  ;  the 
great  offer,  with  its  great  scene,  had  come  to  very  little. 
Anticlimax,  foe  to  emotion  !  She  remembered  how  the 
scene  in  the  Long  Gallery  had  gone.  So  much  better, 
so  much  better  !  But  Harry  dominated  her — and  he 
had  stopped  the  scene.  Without  attempting  to  bid  him 
any  farewell  she  moved  toward  the  door  slowly  and 
drearily. 

She  was  arrested  by  his  voice — a  new  voice,  very 
good-natured,  rather  chaffing. 

**  Are  you  doing  anything  particular  to-night  ?  "  he 
asked. 

She  turned  round  ;  he  was  smiling  at  her  in  an  open 
but  friendly  amusement. 

"  No,"  she  murmured.  "  I'm  going  back  home,  I 
suppose." 

"  To  Blent  ?  "  he  asked  quickly. 

"  No,  to  our  house.     Mina's  there  and "     Her 

face  was  puzzled  ;  she  left  her  sentence  unfinished. 

"  Well,  I've  got  nothing  to  do.  Let's  have  dinner 
and  go  somewhere  together  ?  " 

Their  eyes  met.  Gradually  Cecily's  lightened  into  a 
sparkle  as  her  lips  bent  and  her  white  teeth  showed  a 
little.  She  was  almost  laughing  outright  as  she  an- 
swered readily,  without  so  much  as  a  show  of  hesitation 
or  a  hint  of  surprise,  *'  Yes." 

Nothing  else  can  be  so  ample  as  a  monosyllable  is 
sometimes.     If  it  had  been  Harry's  object  to  escape 

[270] 


The  Tristram   Way  —  A   Specimen 

from  a  tragic  or  sensational  situation  he  had  achieved 
it  triumphantly.  The  question  was  no  longer  who 
should  have  Blent,  but  where  they  should  have  dinner. 
Nothing  in  his  manner  showed  that  he  had  risked  and 
succeeded  in  a  hazardous  experiment  ;  he  had  brought 
her  down  to  the  level  of  common-sense — that  is,  to  his 
own  view  of  things  ;  incidentally  he  had  secured  what 
he  hoped  would  prove  a  very  pleasant  evening.  Finally 
he  meant  to  have  one  more  word  with  her  on  the  matter 
of  her  visit  before  they  parted.  His  plan  was  very  clear 
in  his  head.  By  the  end  of  the  evening  she  would  have 
forgotten  the  exalted  mood  which  had  led  her  into  ab- 
surdity ;  she  would  listen  to  a  few  wise  and  weighty 
words — such  as  he  would  have  at  command.  Then  the 
ludicrous  episode  would  be  over  and  done  with  for- 
ever ;  to  its  likeness,  superficially  at  least  rather  strong, 
to  that  other  scene  in  which  he  had  been  chief  actor 
his  mind  did  not  advert. 

A  very  pleasant  evening  it  proved  ;  so  that  it  pro- 
longed itself,  naturally  as  it  were  and  without  express 
arrangement,  beyond  dinner  and  the  play,  and  em- 
braced in  its  many  hours  a  little  supper  and  a  long 
drive  in  a  cab  to  those  distant  regions  where  Cecily's 
house  was  situated.  There  was  no  more  talk  of  Blent  ; 
there  was  some  of  Harry's  new  life,  its  features  and  its 
plans  ;  there  was  a  good  deal  about  nothing  in  par- 
ticular ;  and  there  was  not  much  of  any  sort  as  they 
drove  along  in  the  cab  at  one  o'clock  in  the  morning. 

But  Harry's  purpose  was  not  forgotten.  He  bade  the 
cabman  wait  and  followed  Cecily  into  the  house.  He 
looked  round  it  with  lively  interest  and  curiosity. 

"  wSo  this  is  where  you  came  from  !  "  he  exclaimed 
with  a  compassionate  smile.  "  You  do  want  something 
to  make  up  for  this  !  " 

She  laughed  as  she  took  off  her  hat  and  sank  into  a 
chair.    "  Yes,  this  is — home,"  she  said. 

[271] 


Tristram  of  Blent 

"  Have  you  had  a  pleasant  evening  ?  "  he  demanded. 

"  You  know  I  have." 

"  Are  you  feeling  friendly  to  me  ?  " 

Now  came  the  attitude  ;  she  threw  herself  into  it  and 
smiled. 

"  That's  what  I  wanted,"  he  went  on.  "  Now  I  can 
say  what  I  have  to  say." 

She  sat  still,  waiting  to  hear  him.  There  was  now  no 
sign  of  uneasiness  about  her.  She  smiled  luxuriously, 
and  her  eyes  were  resting  on  his  face  with  evident 
pleasure.  They  were  together  again  as  they  had  been 
in  the  Long  Gallery  ;  the  same  contentment  possessed 
her.  The  inner  feeling  had  its  outward  effect.  There 
came  on  him  the  same  admiration,  the  same  sense  that 
she  commanded  his  loyalty.  When  she  had  come  to 
his  rooms  that  afternoon  he  had  found  it  easy  to  rebuke 
and  to  rule  her.  His  intent  for  the  evening  had  been 
the  same  ;  he  had  sought  to  bring  her  to  a  more  friendly 
mind  chiefly  that  she  might  accept  with  greater  readi- 
ness the  chastening  of  cool  common-sense,  and  a  re- 
buke from  the  decent  pride  which  her  proposal  had 
outraged.  Harry  was  amazed  to  find  himself  suddenly 
at  a  loss,  looking  at  the  girl,  hardly  knowing  how  to 
speak  to  her. 

"  Well  ?  "  she  said.  Where  now  was  the  tremulous 
excitement  ?  She  was  magnificently  at  her  ease  and 
commanded  him  to  speak,  if  he  had  anything  to  say. 
If  not,  let  him  hold  his  peace. 

But  he  was  proud  and  obstinate  too.  They  came  to  a 
conflict  there  in  the  little  room — the  forgotten  cab  wait- 
ing outside,  the  forgotten  Mina  beginning  to  stir  in  her 
bed  as  voices  dimly  reached  her  ears  and  she  awoke 
to  the  question — where  was  Cecily  ? 

"  If  we're  to  be  friends,"  Harry  began,  "  I  must  hear 
no  more  of  what  you  said  this  afternoon.    You  asked 

me  to  be  a  pensioner,  you  proposed  yourself  to  be " 

[272] 


The   Tristram  Way  —  A   Specimen 

He  did  not  finish.  The  word  was  not  handy,  or  he 
wished  to  spare  her. 

She  showed  no  signs  of  receiving  mercy. 

"  Very  well,"  she  said,  smiling.  "  If  you  knew  every- 
thing, you  wouldn't  talk  like  that.  I  suppose  you've 
no  idea  what  it  cost  me  ?  " 

"  What  it  cost  vou  ?  " 

She  broke  into  a  scornful  laugh.  "  You  know  what  it 
really  meant.  Still  you've  only  a  scolding  for  me  ! 
How  funny  that  you  see  one  half  and  not  the  other  ! 
But  you've  given  me  a  very  pleasant  evening,  Cousin 
Harry." 

"  You  must  leave  my  life  alone,"  he  insisted 
brusquely. 

"  Oh,  yes,  for  the  future.  I've  nothing  left  to  ofifer, 
have  I  ?  I  have  been — refused !  "  She  seemed  to  ex- 
ult in  the  abandonment  of  her  candor. 

He  looked  at  her  angrily,  almost  dangerously.  For  a 
passing  moment  she  had  a  sensation  of  that  physical 
fear  from  which  no  moral  courage  can  wholly  redeem 
the  weak  in  body.  But  she  showed  none  of  it  ;  her  pose 
was  unchanged  ;  only  the  hand  on  which  her  head 
rested  shook  a  little.  And  she  began  to  laugh.  "  You 
look  as  if  you  were  going  to  hit  mc,"  she  said. 

"  Oh,  you  do  talk  nonsense  !  "  he  groaned.  But  she 
was  too  much  for  him  ;  he  laughed  too.  She  had 
spoken  with  such  a  grand  security.  "  If  you  tell  me  to 
walk  out  of  the  door  I  shall  go." 

"  Well,  in  five  minutes.    It's  very  late." 

"  Oh,  we  weren't  bred  in  Bayswater,"  he  reminded 
her. 

"  I  was — in  Chelsea." 

"  So  you  say.  I  think  in  heaven — no,  Olympus — 
really." 

"  Have  you  said  what  you  wanted  to  say,  Cousin 
Harry  ?  " 


Tristram  ^t/ Blent 

"  I  suppose  you  hadn't  the  least  idea  what  you  were 
doing  ?  " 

"  I  was  as  cool  as  you  were  when  you  gave  nic 
Blent." 

"  You're  cool  enough  now,  anyhow,"  he  admitted,  in 
admiration  of  her  parry. 

'*  Quite,  thanks."  The  hand  behind  her  head 
trembled  sorely.  His  eyes  were  on  her,  and  a  confusion 
threatened  to  overwhelm  the  composure  of  which  she 
boasted. 

"  I  gave  you  Blent  because  it  was  yours," 

"  What  I  offered  you  is  mine." 

"  By  God,  no.    Never  yours  to  give  till  you've  lost 

it  ! " 

With  an  effort  she  kept  her  pose.  His  words 
hummed  through  her  head. 

"  Did  you  say  that  to  Janie  Iver  ?  "  she  mustered 
coolness  to  ask  him  mockingly. 

He  thrust  away  the  taunt  with  a  motion  of  his  hand  ; 
one  of  Gainsborough's  gimcracks  fell  smashed  on  the 
floor.  Cecily  laughed,  glad  of  the  excuse  to  seem  at 
her  ease. 

"Hang  the  thing!  If  you'd  loved  me,  you'd  have 
been  ashamed  to  do  it." 

"  I  was  ashamed  without  loving  you,  Cousin  Harry." 

"  Oh,  do  drop  '  Cousin  '  Harry  !  " 

"  Well,  I  proposed  to.  But  you  wouldn't."  Her  only 
refuge  now  was  in  quips  and  verbal  victories.  They 
served  her  well,  for  Harry,  less  master  of  himself  than 
usual,  was  hindered  and  tripped  up  by  them.  "  Still,  if 
we  ever  meet  again,  I'll  say  '  Harry  '  if  you  Hke." 

"  Of  course  we  shall  meet  again."  She  surprised 
that  out  of  him. 

"  It'll  be  so  awkward  for  me  now,"  she  laughed 
lightly.  But  her  mirth  broke  off  suddenly  as  he  came 
closer  and  stood  over  her. 

[274] 


The  Tristram  Way  —  A   Specimen 

"  I  could  hate  you  for  coming  to  me  with  that  offer," 
he  said. 

Almost  hating-  herself  now,  3^et  sorely  wounded  that 
he  should  think  of  hating  her,  she  answered  him  in  a 
fury. 

"  Well  then,  shouldn't  I  hate  you  for  giving  me 
Blent  ?  That  was  worse.  You  could  refuse,  I  couldn't. 
I  have  it,  I  have  to  keep  it."  In  her  excitement  she 
rose  and  faced  him.  "  And  because  of  you  I  can't  be 
happy  !  "  she  cried  resentfully. 

"  I  see  !  I  ought  to  have  drowned  myself,  instead  of 
merely  going  away  ?  Oh,  I  know  I  owe  the  world  at 
large  apologies  for  my  existence,  and  you  in  particular, 
of  course  !  Unfortunately,  though,  I  intend  to  go  on 
existing  ;  I  even  intend  to  live  a  life  of  my  own — not 
the  life  of  a  hanger-on — if  you'll  kindly  allow  me." 

"  Would  any  other  man  in  the  world  talk  like  this 
after ?  " 

**  Any  man  who  had  the  sense  to  see  what  you'd  done. 
I'm  bound  to  be  a  nuisance  to  you  anyhow.  I  should  be 
least  of  a  nuisance  as  your  husband  !  That  was  it. 
Oh,  I'm  past  astonishment  at  you." 

His  words  sounded  savage,  but  it  was  not  their  fierce- 
ness that  banished  her  mirth.  It  was  the  new  light  they 
threw  on  that  impulse  of  hers.  She  could  only  fall  back 
on  her  old  recrimination. 

"  When  you  gave  me  Blent " 

"  Hold  your  tongue  about  Blent,"  he  commanded 
imperiously.  "  If  it  were  mine  again,  and  I  came  to 
you  and  said,  '  You're  on  my  conscience,  you  fret  mo, 
vou  worry  me.  Marrv  me,  and  I  shall  be  more  comfort- 
able ! '    What  then  ?'" 

"  Why,  it  would  be  just  like  you  to  do  it  !  "  she  cried 
in  malicious  triumph. 

"  The  sort  of  thing  runs  in  the  family,  then."  She 
started  at  the  plainness  of  his  sneer.    "  Oh,  yes,  that 

[275] 


Tristram  <?/ Blent 

was  it.  Well,  what  wovild  your  answer  be  ?  Shall  I 
tell  you  ?  You'd  ask  the  first  man  who  came  by  to 
kick  me  out  of  the  room.    And  you'd  be  right." 

The  truth  of  his  words  pierced  her.  She  flushed  red, 
but  she  was  resolved  to  admit  nothing.  Before  him,  at 
any  rate,  she  would  cling  to  her  case,  to  the  view  of  her 
own  action  to  which  she  stood  committed.  He  at  least 
should  never  know  that  now  at  last  he  had  made  her 
bitterly  and  horribly  ashamed,  with  a  shame  not  foi 
what  she  had  proposed  to  do  herself,  but  for  what  she 
had  dared  to  ask  him  to  do.  She  saw  the  thing  now 
as  he  saw  it.  Had  his  manner  softened,  had  he  made 
any  appeal,  had  he  not  lashed  her  with  the  bitterest 
words  he  could  find,  she  would  have  been  in  tears  at 
his  feet.  But  now  she  faced  him  so  boldly  that  he  took 
her  flush  to  mean  anger.  He  turned  away  from  her 
and  picked  up  his  hat  from  the  chair  on  which  he  had 
thrown  it. 

"  Well,  that's  all,  isn't  it  ?  "  he  asked. 

Before  she  had  time  to  answer,  there  was  a  cry  from 
the  doorway,  full  of  astonishment,  consternation,  and  (it 
must  be  added)  outraged  propriety.  For  it  was  past 
two  o'clock  and  Mina  Zabriska,  for  all  her  freakishness, 
had  been  bred  on  strict  lines  of  decorum.  "  Cecily  !  " 
she  cried.  "  And  you  !  "  she  added  a  moment  later. 
They  turned  and  saw  her  standing  there  in  her  dressing- 
gowm,  holding  a  candle.  The  sudden  turn  of  events,  the 
introduction  of  this  new  figure,  the  intrusion  that 
seemed  so  absurd,  overcame  Cecily.  She  sank  back  in 
her  chair,  and  laid  her  head  on  her  hands  on  the  table, 
laughing  hysterically.     Harry's  frown  grew  heavier. 

"  Oh,  you're  there  ?  "  he  said  to  Mina.  "  You're  in  it 
too,  I  suppose  ?  I've  always  had  the  misfortune  to  in- 
terest you,  haven't  I  ?  You  wanted  to  turn  me  out 
first.  Now  you're  trying  to  put  me  in  again,  are  you  ? 
Oh,  you  women,  can't  you  leave  a  man  alone  ?  " 

[2/6] 


The   Tristram  Way  —  A   Specimen 

"  1  don't  know  what  you're  talking  about.  And 
what  are  you  doing  here  ?  Do  vou  know  it's  half-past 
two  ?  "     ' 

"  It  would  be  all  the  same  to  me  if  it  was  half-past 
twenty-two,"  said  Harry  contemptuously. 

"  You've  been  with  her  all  the  time  ?  " 

"  Oh,  lord,  yes.  Are  you  the  chaperon  ? "  He 
laughed,  as  he  unceremoniously  clapped  his  hat  on  his 
head.  "  We've  had  an  evening  out,  my  cousin  and  I, 
and  I  saw  her  home.  And  now  I'm  going  home. 
Nothing  wrong,  I  hope,  Aladame  Zabriska?" 

Cecily  raised  her  head  ;  she  was  laughing  still,  with 
tears  in  her  eyes. 

Mina  looked  at  her.  Considerations  of  propriety  fell 
into  the  background. 

"  But  what's  it  all  about  ?  "  she  cried. 

"  I'll  leave  Cecily  to  tell  you."  He  was  quiet  now,  but 
with  a  vicious  quietness.  "  I've  been  explaining  that  I 
have  a  preference  for  being  left  alone.  Perhaps  it  may 
not  be  superfluous  to  mention  the  fact  to  you  too, 
Madame  Zaljriska.  My  cab's  waiting.  Good-night." 
He  looked  a  moment  at  Cecily,  and  his  eyes  seemed  to 
dwell  a  little  longer  than  he  had  meant.  In  a  tone 
rather  softer  and  more  gentle  he  repeated,  ''  Good- 
night." 

Cecily  sprang  to  her  feet.  "  I  shall  remember  !  "  she 
cried.  "  I  shall  remember  !  If  ever — if  ever  the  time 
comes,  I  shall  remember  !  "  Her  voice  was  full  of  bit- 
terness, her  manner  proudly  defiant. 

Harry  hesitated  a  moment,  then  smiled  grimly.  "  I 
shouldn't  be  able  to  complain  of  that,"  he  said,  as  he 
turned  and  went  out  to  his  cab. 

Cecily  threw  herself  into  her  chair  again.  The  be- 
wildered Imp  stood  staring  at  her. 

"  I  didn't  know  where  you  were,"  Mina  complained. 

"  Oh,  it  doesn't  matter." 


Tristram  ^Blent 

"  Fancy  being  here  with  him  at  this  time  of  night  !  " 

Cecily  gave  no  signs  of  hearing  this  superficial  criti- 
cism on  her  conduct. 

"  You  must  tell  me  what  it's  all  about,"  Mina  in- 
sisted. 

Cecily  raised  her  eyes  with  a  weary  air,  as  though  she 
spoke  of  a  distasteful  subject  unwillingly  and  to  no  good 
purpose. 

"  I  went  to  tell  him  he  could  get  Blent  back  by 
marrying  me."' 

"  Cecily  !  "  Alan)  emotions  were  packed  into  the 
cry.    "  What  did  he  say  ?  " 

Cecily  seemed  to  consider  for  a  moment,  then  she 
answered  slowly  : 

"  Well,  he  very  nearly  beat  me — and  I  rather  wish  he 
had,"  she  said. 

The  net  result  of  the  day  had  distinctly  not  been  to 
further  certain  schemes.  All  that  had  been  achieved — 
and  both  of  them  had  contributed  to  it — was  an  admi- 
rable example  of  the  Tristram  way. 


[278] 


XXI 

The  Persistence  of  Blent 

HARRY  TRISTRAM  awoke  the  next  morning 
with  visions  in  his  head — no  unusual  thing  with 
young  men,  yet  strange  and  almost  unknown 
to  him.  They  had  not  been  wont  to  come  at  Blent,  nor 
had  his  affair  with  Janie  Iver  created  them.  Possibly 
a  constant,  although  unconscious,  reference  of  all  at- 
tractions to  the  standard,  or  the  tradition,  of  Addie 
Tristram's  had  hitherto  kept  him  free  ;  or  perhaps  it 
was  merely  that  there  were  no  striking  attractions  in 
the  valley  of  the  Blent.  Anyhow  the  visions  were  here 
now,  a  series  of  them  covering  all  the  hours  of  the  even- 
ing before,  and  embodying  for  him  the  manifold 
changes  of  feeling  which  had  marked  the  time.  He  saw 
himself  as  well  as  Cecily,  and  the  approval  of  his  eyes 
was  still  for  himself,  their  irritation  for  her.  But  he 
could  not  dismiss  her  from  the  pictures  ;  he  realized 
this  with  a  new  annoyance.  He  lay  later  than  his  cus- 
tom was,  looking  at  her,  recalling  what  she  had  said  as 
he  found  the  need  of  words  to  write  beneath  each 
mental  apparition.  Under  the  irritation,  and  greater 
than  it,  was  the  same  sort  of  satisfaction  that  his  ac- 
tivities had  given  him — a  feeling  of  more  life  and 
broader  ;  this  thing,  though  rising  out  of  the  old  life, 
fitted  in  well  with  the  new.  Above  all,  that  sentence 
of  hers  rang  in  his  head,  its  extravagance  perhaps  gain- 
ing pre-eminence  for  it  :  "  If  ever  the  time  comes,  I 
shall  remember  !  "  The  time  did  not  seem  likely  to 
come — so  far  as  he  could  interpret  the  vague  and  rather 

[279] 


Tristram  /?/ Blent 

threadbare  phrase — but  her  resolution  stirred  his  in- 
terest, and  ended  by  exacting  his  applause.  He  was 
glad  that  she  had  resisted,  and  had  not  allowed  herself 
to  be  trampled  on.  Though  the  threat  was  very  empty, 
its  utterance  showed  a  high  spirit,  such  a  spirit  as  he 
still  wished  to  preside  over  Blent.  It  was  just  what 
his  mother  might  have  said,  with  an  equal  intensity  of 
determination  and  an  equal  absence  of  definite  pur- 
pose. But  then  the  whole  proceedings  had  been  just 
what  he  could  imagine  his  mother  bringing  about. 
Consequently  he  was  rather  blind  to  the  extraordinary 
character  of  the  step  Cecily  had  taken  ;  so  far  he  was 
of  the  same  clay  as  his  cousin.  He  was,  however,  none 
the  less  outraged  by  it,  and  none  the  less  sure  that 
he  had  met  it  in  the  right  way.  Yet  he  did  not  con- 
sider that  there  was  any  quarrel  between  them,  and 
he  meant  to  see  more  of  her;  he  was  accustomed  to 
"  scenes  "  occurring  and  leaving  no  permanent  es- 
trangement or  bitterness  ;  the  storms  blew  over  the 
sand,  but  they  did  not  in  the  end  make  much  differ- 
ence in  the  sand. 

There  was  work  to  be  done — the  first  grave  critical 
bit  of  work  he  had  ever  had  to  do,  the  first  real  meas- 
uring of  himself  against  an  opponent  of  proved  ability. 
So  he  would  think  no  more  about  the  girl.  This  re- 
solve did  not  work.  She,  or  rather  her  apparition, 
seemed  to  insist  that  she  had  something  to  do  with  the 
work,  was  concerned  in  it,  or  at  least  meant  to  look 
on  at  it.  Harry  found  that  he  had  small  objection,  or 
even  a  sort  of  welcome  for  her  presence.  Side  by  side 
with  the  man's  pleasure  in  doing  the  thing,  there  was 
still  some  of  the  boy's  delight  in  showing  he  could  do  it. 
What  had  passed  yesterday,  particularly  that  idea  of 
doing  things  for  him  which  he  had  detected  and  raged 
at,  made  it  additionally  pleasant  that  he  should  be  seen 
to  be  capable  of  doing  things  for  himself.    All  this  was 

[280] 


The  Persistence  of  Blent 

vague,  but  it  was  in  his  mind  as  he  walked  to  Sloyd's 
offices. 

Grave  and  critical  !  Sloyd's  nervous  excitement 
and  uneasy  deference  toward  Tver  were  the  only  indi- 
cations of  any  such  thing.  Duplay  was  there  in  the 
background,  cool  and  easy.  Tver  himself  was  inclined 
to  gossip  with  Harry  and  to  chafif  him  on  the  fresh 
departure  he  had  made,  rather  than  to  settle  down  to 
a  discussion  of  Blinkhampton.  That  was  after  all  a 
small  matter — so  his  manner  seemed  to  assert  ;  he  had 
been  in  town  anyhow,  so  he  dropped  in  ;  Duplay  had 
made  a  point  of  it  in  his  scrupulous  modesty  as  to  his 
own  experience.  Harry  found  that  he  could  resist  the 
impression  he  was  meant  to  receive  only  by  saying  to 
himself  as  he  faced  his  old  friend  and  present  an- 
tagonist :  "  But  you're  here — you're  here — you're 
here  !  "  Iver  could  neither  gossip  nor  argue  that  fact 
away. 

"  Well  now,"  said  iver  with  a  glance  at  his  watch, 
"  we  must  really  get  to  business.  You  don't  want  to 
live  in  Blinkhampton,  you  gentlemen,  I  suppose  ? 
You  want  to  leave  a  little  better  for  your  visit,  eh  ? 
Quite  so.  That's  the  proper  thing  with  the  sea-side. 
But  you  can't  expect  to  find  fortunes  growing  on  the 
beach.    Surely  Alajor  Duplay  mistook  your  figures  ?  " 

"  Unless  he  mentioned  fifty  thousand,  he  did,"  said 
Harry  firmly. 

"  H'm,  I  did  you  injustice,  Major — with  some  ex- 
cuse, though.     Surely,  Mr    Sloyd ?  "     He  turned 

away  from  Harry  as  he  spoke. 

"  I  beg  pardon,"  interrupted  Harry.  "  Am  I  to  talk 
to  Major  Duplay  ?  " 

Iver  looked  at  him  curiously.  "  Well,  I'd  rather  talk 
to  you,  Harry,"  he  said.  "  And  I'll  tell  you  plainly 
what  I  think.  Mr  Sloyd's  a  young  business  man — so 
are  vou." 

[281J 


Tristram  of  Blent. 

*'  I'm  a  baby,"  Harry  agreed. 

"  And  blackmailing  big  people  isn't  a  good  way  to 
start."  He  watched  Harry,  but  he  did  not  forget  to 
watch  Sloyd  too.  "  Of  course  I  use  the  word  in  a 
ligurative  sense.  The  estate's  not  worth  half  that 
money  to  you  ;  we  happen  to  want  it — Oh,  I'm  always 
open  ! — So "    He  gave  a  shrug. 

"  Sorry  to  introduce  new  and  immoral  methods  into 
business,  Mr  Iver.  It  must  be  painful  to  you  after  all 
these  years."  Harry  laughed  good-humoredly.  "  I 
shall  corrupt  the  Major  too!  "  he  added. 

"  We'll  give  you  five  thousand  for  your  bargain — 
twenty-five  in  all." 

"  I  suggested  to  Major  Duplay  that  being  ahead  of 
you  was  so  rare  an  achievement  that  it  ought  to  be 
Droperly  recognized." 

Duplay  whispered  to  Iver.  Sloyd  whispered  to 
Harry.  Iver  listened  atentively,  Harry  with  evident 
impatience.  "  Let  it  go  for  thirty,  don't  make  an 
enemy  of  him,"  had  been  Sloyd's  secret  counsel. 

"  My  dear  Harry,  the  simple  fact  is  that  the  business 
won't  stand  more  than  a  certain  amount.  If  we  put 
money  into  Blinkhampton,  it's  because  we  want  it  to 
come  out  again.  Now  the  crop  will  be  limited."  He 
paused.  "  I'll  make  you  an  absolutely  final  ofifer — 
thirty." 

"  My  price  is  fifty,"  said  Harry  immovably. 

"  Out  of  the  question." 

"  All  right."  Harry  lit  a  cigarette  with  an  air  of 
having  finished  the  business. 

"  It  simply  cannot  be  done  on  the  figures,"  Iver  de- 
clared with  genuine  vexation.  "  We've  worked  it  out, 
Harry,  and  it  can't  be  done.  If  I  showed  our  calcula- 
tions to  Mr  Sloyd,  who  is,  I'm  sure^  willing  to  be 
reasonable " 

"  Yes,  Mr  Iver,  I  am.    I  am,  I  hope,  always  desirous 

[282] 


The   Persistence  of   Blent 

of — er — meeting  gentlemen  half-way  ;  and  nothing 
could  give  me  greater  pleasure  than  to  do  business 
with  you,  Mr  Iver." 

"  Unfortunately  you  seem  to  have — a  partner,"  Iver 
observed.  "  No,  I've  told  you  the  most  we  can  give." 
He  leant  back  in  his  chair.  This  time  it  was  he  who 
had  finished  business. 

"  And  I've  told  you  the  least  we  can  take." 

"  It's  hopeless.  Fifty  !  Oh,  we  should  be  out  of 
pocket.  It's  really  unreasonable."  He  was  looking  at 
Sloyd,  "  It's  treating  me  as  an  enemy, — and  I  shall 
have  no  alternative  but  to  accept  the  situation.  Blink- 
hampton  is  not  essential  to  me  ;  and  your  hotel  and  so 
on  won't  flourish  much  if  I  leave  my  tumble-down 
cottages  and  pigsties  just  behind  them.  Will  you  put 
these  papers  together,  Duplay  ?  " 

The  Alajor  obeyed  leisurely.  Sloyd  was  licking  his 
lips  and  looking  acutely  unhappy. 

"  You're  absolutely  resolved,  Harry  ?  " 

"  Absolutely,  Mr   Iver." 

"  Well,  I  give  it  up.  It's  bad  for  me,  and  it's  worse 
for  you.  In  all  my  experience  I  never  was  so  treated. 
You  won't  even  discuss  !  If  you'd  said  thirty-five, 
well,  I'd  have  listened.  If  you'd  even  said  forty,  I'd 
have " 

"  1  saw  done  for  forty !  "  said  Harry  cjuietly.  "  I'd 
a  sort  of  idea  all  the  time  that  that  might  be  your 
limit.  I  expect  the  thing  really  wouldn't  stand  fifty, 
you  know.    Oh,  that's  just  my  notion." 

Iver's  face  was  a  study.  He  was  surprised,  he  was 
annoyed,  but  he  was  also  somewhat  amused.  Harry's 
acting  had  been  good.  That  obstinate,  uncompromising 
immutable  fifty  ! — Iver  had  really  believed  in  it.  And 
forty  had  been  his  limit — his  extreme  limit.  He  just 
saw  his  way  to  square  hi?  accounts  satisfactorily  if  he 
were  driven  to  pav  that  as  the  penalty  of  one  of  his 


Tristram  of  Blent 

rare  mistakes.  He  glanced  at  Sloyd  ;  radiant  joy  and 
relief  illumined  that  young  man's  face,  as  he  gave  his 
mustache  an  upward  twirl.  Duplay  was  smiling — 
yes,  smiling.  At  last  Iver  smiled  too.  Harry  was 
grave — not  solemn — but  merely  not  smiling  because 
he  did  not  perceive  anything  to  smile  at.  No  doubt  he 
was  gratified  by  the  success  of  his  tactics,  and  pleased 
that  his  formidable  opponent  had  been  deceived  by 
them.  But  he  thought  nothing  of  what  impressed 
Iver  most.  The  tactics  had  been,  no  doubt,  well  con- 
ceived and  carried  out,  but  they  were  ordinary  enough 
in  their  nature  ;  Iver  himself,  and  dozens  of  men  he 
had  met,  could  have  executed  them  as  well.  What 
struck  him  was  that  Harry  knew  how  far  he  could  go, 
that  he  stopped  on  the  verge,  but  not  beyond  -the 
boundary  where  a  deal  was  possible.  Mere  guess- 
work could  not  account  for  that,  nor  had  he  commanded 
the  sources  of  information  which  would  have  made  the 
conclusion  a  matter  of  ordinary  intelligent  calculation. 
No,  he  had  intuitions  ;  he  must  have  an  eye.  Now  eyes 
were  rare  ;  and  when  they  were  found  they  were  to 
be  used.  Iver  was  much  surprised  at  finding  one  in 
Harry.  Yet  it  must  be  in  Harry  ;  Iver  was  certain 
that  Sloyd  had  known  nothing  of  the  plan  of  campaign 
or  of  the  decisive  figure  on  which  his  associate  had 
pitched. 

"  ril  give  you  forty,"  he  said  at  last.  "  For  the 
whole  thing,  lock,  stock,  and  barrel — forty." 

"  It's  a  bargain,"  said  Harry,  and  Iver,  with  a  sigh 
(for  forty  was  the  extreme  figure),  pushed  back  his 
chair  and  rose  to  his  feet. 

"  We've  got  a  good  many  plans,  sir,"  suggested 
Sloyd,  very  anxious  to  establish  pleasant  relations. 
"  I'm  sure  we  should  be  very  glad  if  you  found  them 
of  any  service." 

"  You're  vcrv  good,  Mr  Sloyd,  but " 

[284] 


The  Persistence   of  Blent 

"  You  may  as  well  have  a  look  at  them,"  interrupted 
Harry.  "  There  are  one  or  two  good  ideas.  You'll  ex- 
plain them,  won't  you,  Sloyd  ?  " 

Sloyd  had  already  placed  one  in  Iver's  hand,  who 
glanced  at  it,  took  another,  compared  them,  and  after  a 
minute's  pause  held  both  out  to  the  Major. 

"  Well,  Duplay,  suppose  you  look  at  them  and  hear 
anything  that  Mr  Sloyd  is  good  enough  to  say,  and  re- 
port to  me  ?    You're  at  leisure  ?  " 

"  Certainly,"  said  Duplay.  He  was  in  good  humor, 
better  perhaps  than  if  his  chief  had  proved  more 
signally  successful.  Harry  turned  to  him,  smil- 
ing. 

"  I  saw  Madame  Zabriska  last  night,  at  Lady  Tris- 
tram's house.    She's  forsaken  you.  Major  ?  "    , 

"  Mina's  very  busy  about  something,"  smiled  the 
Major. 

"  Yes,  she  generally  is,"  said  Harry,  frowning  a 
little.    "  If  she  tells  you  anything  about  me " 

"  I'm  not  to  believe  it?  " 

"  You  may  believe  it,  but  not  the  way  she  puts  it," 
laughed  Harry. 

"  Now  there's  an  end  of  business  !  Walk  down  to 
the  Imperium  with  me,  Harry,  and  have  a  bit  of  lunch. 
You've  earned  it,  eh  ?  How  do  you  like  the  feeUng  of 
making  money  ?  " 

"  Well,  I  think  it  might  grow  on  a  man.  What's 
your  experience  ?  " 

"  Sometimes  better  than  this  morning,  or  I  should 
hardly  have  been  your  neighbor  at  Fairholme." 

The  two  walked  off  together,  leaving  Duplay  and 
Sloyd  very  amicable.     Iver  was  thoughtful. 

"  You  did  that  well,"  he  said  as  they  turned  the  cor- 
ner into  Berkeley  Square. 

"  I  suppose  I  learnt  to  bluff  a  bit  when  I  was  at 
Blent." 

[285] 


Tristram  of  Blent 

"  That  was  all  right,  but — well,  how  did  you  put  your 
finger  on  the  figure  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know.  It  looked  like  being  about  that, 
you  know." 

"  It  was  very  exactly  that,"  admitted  Iver. 

"  Rather  a  surprise  to  find  our  friend  the  Major  go- 
ing into  business  with  you." 

"  He'll  be  useful,  I  think,  and — well,  I'm  short  of 
help."  He  was  eying  Harry  now,  but  he  said  no  more 
about  the  morning's  transaction  till  they  reached  the 
club. 

"  Perhaps  we  shall  find  Neeld  here,"  he  remarked, 
as  they  went  in. 

They  did  find  Neeld,  and  also  Lord  Southend,  the 
latter  gentleman  in  a  state  of  disturbance  about  his 
curry.  It  was  not  what  any  man  would  seriously  call 
a  curry  ;  it  was  no  more  than  a  fortuitous  concurrence 
of  mutton  and  rice. 

"  It's  an  extraordinary  thing,"  he  observed  to  Iver, 
"  that  whenever  Wilmot  Edge  is  away,  the  curries  in 
this  club  go  to  the  devil — to  the  devil.  And  he's  al- 
ways going  off  somewhere,  confound  him  !  " 

"  He  can't  be  expected  to  stay  at  home  just  to  look 
after  your  curry,"  Iver  suggested. 

"  I  suppose  he's  in  South  America,  or  South  Africa, 
or  South  somewhere  or  other  out  of  reach.  Waiter  !  " 
The  embarrassed  servant  came.  "  When  is  Colonel 
Edge  expected  back  ?  " 

"  In  a  few  weeks,  I  believe,  my  Lord." 
Who's    Chairman   of  the   Committee   while   he's 


<< 


away  ^ 


"  Mr  Gore-Marston,  my  Lord." 

''  There — what  can  you  expect  ?  "  He  pushed  away 
his  plate.  "  Bring  me  some  cold  beef,"  he  commanded, 
and  the  waiter  brought  it  with  an  air  that  said  "  Icha- 
bod "   for  the   Imperium.     "  As   soon  as  ever  Edge 

[286] 


The  Persistence  of  Blent 

comes  back,  I  shall  draw  his  attention  to  tht 
curry," 

Everybody  else  had  rather  lost  their  interest  in  the 
subject.  Neeld  and  Harry  were  in  conversation.  Iver 
sat  down  by  Southend,  and,  while  lunch  was  preparing, 
endeavored  to  distract  his  mind  by  giving  him  a  history 
of  the  morning.  Southend  too  was  concerned  in  Blink- 
hampton.  Gradually  the  curry  w^as  forgotten  as  he 
listened  to  the  story  of  Harry's  victory. 

"  Sort  of  young  fellow  who  might  be  useful  ?  "  he 
suggested  presently. 

"  That's  what  I  was  thinking.  He's  quite  ready  to 
work  too,  I  fancy." 

Southend  regarded  his  friend.  He  was  thinking  that 
if  this  and  that  happened — and  they  were  things  now 
within  the  bounds  of  possibility — Iver  might  live  to  be 
sorry  that  Harry  was  not  to  be  his  son-in-law.  Hastily 
and  in  ignorance  he  included  Janie  in  the  scope  of  this 
supposed  regret.  But  at  this  moment  the  guilty  and 
incompetent  Mr  Gore-Marston  had  the  misfortune  to 
come  in.  Southend,  all  his  grievance  revived,  fell  on 
him  tooth  and  nail.  His  defence  was  feeble  ;  he  ad- 
mitted that  he  knew  next  to  nothing  of  curries,  and — 
yes,  the  cook  did  get  careless  when  Wilmot  Edge's 
vigilant  eye  was  removed. 

"  He'll  be  home  soon,"  Gore-Marston  pleaded. 
"  I've  had  a  letter  from  him  ;  he's  just  got  back  to  civil- 
ization after  being  out  in  the  wilderness,  shooting,  for 
six  weeks.    He'll  be  here  in  a  month  now,  I  think." 

"  We  shall  have  to  salary  him  to  stay,"  growled 
Southend. 

Harry  was  amused  at  this  little  episode,  and  listened 
smiling.  Possessing  a  knowledge  of  curries  seemed  an 
odd  way  to  acquire  importance  for  a  fellow-creature,  a 
strange  reason  for  a  man's  return  being  desired.  He 
knew  who  Wilmot  Edge  was,  and  it  was  funny  to  hear 

[287J 


Tristram  of  Blent 

of  him  again  in  connection  with  curries.  And  curries 
seemed  the  only  reason  why  anybody  should  be  in- 
terested in  Colonel  Edge's  return.  Not  till  they  met 
again  in  the  smoking-room  were  the  curries  finally 
forgotten. 

In  later  days  Harry  came  to  look  back  on  that  after- 
noon as  the  beginning  of  many  new  things  for  him. 
Iver  and  Southend  talked ;  old  Mr  Neeld  sat  by,  listen- 
ing with  the  interest  of  a  man  who  feels  he  has  missed 
something  in  life  and  would  fain  learn,  even  though  he 
is  too  old  to  turn  the  knowledge  to  account.  Harry 
found  himself  listening  too,  but  in  a  different  way. 

They  were  not  talking  idly  ;  they  talked  for  him. 
That  much  he  soon  discerned.  And  they  were  not 
offering  to  help  him.  His  vigilant  pride,  still  sore  from 
the  blow  that  Cecily  had  dealt  it,  was  on  the  look-out 
for  that.  But  the  triumph  of  the  morning,  no  less  than 
the  manner  of  the  men,  reassured  him.  It  is  in  its  way 
an  exciting  moment  for  a  young  man  when  he  first  re- 
ceives proof  that  his  seniors,  the  men  of  actual  achieve- 
ment and  admitted  ability,  think  that  there  is  some- 
thing in  him,  that  he  can  be  of  service  to  them,  that  it 
is  in  his  power,  if  it  be  in  his  will,  to  emerge  from  the 
ruck  and  take  a  leading  place.  Harry  was  glad  for 
himself  ;  he  would  have  been  touched  had  he  spared 
time  to  observe  how  delighted  old  Neeld  was  on  his 
account.  They  made  him  no  gift  ;  they  asked  work 
from  him,  and  Iver,  true  to  his  traditions  and  ingrained 
ideas,  asked  money  as  a  guarantee  for  the  work.  "  You 
give  me  back  what  I'm  going  to  pay  you,"  he  said, 
"  and  since  you've  taken  such  an  interest  in  Blink- 
hampton,  turn  to  and  see  what  you  can  make  of  it. 
It  looked  as  if  there  was  a  notion  or  two  worth  consid- 
ering in  those  plans  of  yours." 

Southend  agreed  to  every  suggestion  with  an  em- 
phatic nod.     But  there  was  something  more  in  his 

[288] 


The   Persistence  of   Blent 

mind.  With  every  evidence  of  capability  that  Harry 
showed,  even  with  every  increase  in  the  chances  of  his 
attaining  position  and  weaUh  for  himself,  the  prospect 
of  success  in  the  other  scheme — the  scheme  still  secret 
— grew  brighter.  The  thought  of  that  queer  little 
woman  Madame  Zabriska,  Harry's  champion,  came 
into  his  mind.  He  would  have  something  to  tell  her, 
if  ever  they  met  again  at  Lady  Evenswood's.  He 
would  have  something  to  tell  Lady  Evenswood  her- 
self too.  He  quite  forgot  his  curry — and  Colonel  Wil- 
mot  Edge,  who  derived  his  importance  from  it. 

Nothing  was  settled  ;  there  were  only  suggestions 
for  Harry  to  think  over.  But  he  was  left  quite  clear 
that  everything  depended  on  himself  alone,  that  he  had 
only  to  will  and  to  work,  and  a  career  of  prosperous 
activity  was  before  him.  The  day  had  more  than  ful- 
filled its  promise  ;  what  had  seemed  its  great  triumph 
appeared  now  to  be  valuable  only  as  an  introduction 
and  a  prelude  to  something  larger  and  more  real.  Al- 
ready he  was  looking  back  with  some  surprise  on  the 
extreme  gravity  which  he  had  attached  to  his  little 
Blinkhampton  speculation.  He  grew  very  readily 
where  he  was  given  room  to  grow  ;  and  all  the  while 
there  was  the  impulse  to  show  himself — and  others  too 
— that  he  did  not  depend  on  Blent  or  on  having  Blent. 
Blent  or  no  Blent,  he  was  a  man  who  could  make  him- 
self felt.  He  was  on  his  trial  still  of  course  ;  but  he 
did  not  doubt  of  the  verdict.  When  a  thing  depended 
for  success  or  failure  on  Harry  alone,  Harry  had  never 
])een  in  the  habit  of  doubting  the  result.  The  Major 
had  noticed  that  trait  in  days  which  seemed  now  quite 
long  ago  ;  the  Major  had  not  liked  it,  but  in  the  affairs 
of  life  it  probably  had  some  value. 

Except  for  one  thing  he  seemed  to  be  well  settled 
into  his  new  existence.  People  had  stopped  staring  at 
him.    They  had  almost  ceased  to  talk  of  hini.    He  was 

L28yJ 


Tristram  ^  Blent 

rapidly  becoming  a  bygone  story.  Even  to  himself  it 
seemed  months  since  he  had  been  Tristram  of  Blent  ; 
he  had  no  idea  that  any  plans  were  afoot  concerning 
him  which  found  their  basis  and  justification  in  his  hav- 
ing filled  that  position.  Except  for  one  thing  he  was 
quit  of  it  all.  But  that  remained,  and  in  such  strength 
as  to  color  all  the  new  existence.  The  business  of  the 
day  had  not  driven  out  the  visions  of  the  morning. 
Real  things  should  drive  out  fancies  ;  it  is  serious. 
perhaps  deplorable,  when  the  real  things  seem  to  de- 
rive at  least  half  their  importance  from  the  relation 
that  they  bear  to  the  fancies.  Perhaps  the  proper  con- 
clusion would  be  that  in  such  a  case  the  fancies  too 
have  their  share  of  reality. 

"  Neeld  and  I  go  down  to  Fairholme  to-morrow, 
Harry,"  said  Iver  as  they  parted.  "  No  chance  of  see- 
ing you  down  there,  I  suppose  ?  " 

Neeld  thought  the  question  rather  l^rutal  ;  Iver's 
feelings  were  not  perhaps  of  the  finest.  But  Harry  was 
apparently  unconscious  of  anything  that  grated. 

"  Really,  I  don't  suppose  I  shall  ever  go  there  again," 
he  answered  with  a  laugh.  "  Ofif  with  the  old  love,  you 
know,  Mr  Neeld!" 

"  Oh,  don't  say  that,"  protested  Southend. 

There  was  a  hint  of  some  meaning  in  his  speech 
which  made  Harry  turn  to  him  with  quick  attention. 

"  Blent's  a  mere  memory  to  me,"  he  declared. 

The  three  elder  men  were  silent,  but  they  seemed 
to  receive  what  he  said  with  scepticism. 

"  Well,  that's  the  only  way,  isn't  it  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  Just  at  present,  I  suppose,"  Southend  said  to  him 
in  a  low  voice,  as  he  shook  hands. 

These  few  words,  with  the  subdued  hint  they  carried, 
reinforced  the  strength  of  the  visions.  Harry  was 
rather  full  of  his  own  will  and  proud  of  his  own  powers 
just  now — perhaps  with  some  little  excuse.     But  he 

[290] 


The   Persistence  of   Blent 

began,  thanks  to  the  bearing  of  these  men  and  to  the 
obstinate  thoughts  of  his  own  mind,  to  feel,  still  dimly, 
that  it  was  a  difficult  thing  to  forget  and  to  get  rid  of 
the  whole  of  a  life,  to  make  an  entirely  fresh  start,  to  be 
quite  a  different  man.  Unsuspected  chains  revealed 
themselves  with  each  new  motion  toward  liberty.  Ab- 
solute detachment  had  been  his  ideal.  He  awoke  with 
a  start  to  the  fact  that  he  was  still,  in  the  main,  living 
with  and  moving  among  people  who  smacked  strong 
of  Blent,  who  had  known  him  as  Tristram  of  Blent, 
whose  lives  had  crossed  his  because  he  was  Addie 
yristram's  son.  That  was  true  of  even  his  new  ac- 
quaintance Lady  Evenswood — truer  still  of  Neeld,  of 
Southend,  aye,  of  Sloyd  and  the  Major — most  true  of 
riis  cousin  Cecily.  This  interdependence  of  its  periods 
is  what  welds  life  into  a  whole  ;  even  able  and  wilful 
young  men  have,  for  good  and  evil,  to  reckon  with  it. 
Otherwise  morality  would  be  in  a  bad  case,  and  even 
logic  rather  at  sea.  The  disadvantage  is  that  the  diffi- 
culties in  the  way  of  heroic  or  dramatic  condwct  are  ma- 
terially increased. 

Yes,  he  was  not  to  escape,  not  to  forget.  That  day 
one  scene  more  awaited  him  which  rose  out  of  Blent 
and  belonged  to  Blent.  The  Imp  made  an  appointment 
by  telegram,  and  the  Imp  came.  Harry  could  no  longer 
regard  his  bachelor-chambers  as  any  barrier  against 
the  incursions  of  excited  young  women.  Anything 
that  concerned  the  Tristrams  seemed  naturally  anti- 
pathetic to  conventions.  He  surrendered  and  let  Mina 
in ;  that  he  wanted  to  see  her — her  for  want  of  a  better 
— was  not  recognized  by  him.  She  was  in  a  great 
temper,  and  he  was  soon  inclined  to  regret  his  acces- 
sibility. Still  he  endured  ;  for  it  was  an  absolutely  final 
interview,  she  said.  She  had  just  come  to  tell  him 
what  she  thought  of  him — and  there  was  an  end  of  it. 
Then  she  was  going  back  to  Merrion  and  she  hoped 

[291] 


T  R I  s  T  R  A  M   of  Blent 

Cecily  was  coming  with  her.    He — Harry — would  not 
be  there  anyhow  ! 

"  Certainly  not,"  he  agreed.  "  But  what's  the  mat- 
ter, Madame  Zabriska  ?  You  don't  complain  that  I 
didn't  accept — that  I  couldn't  fall  in  with  my  cousin's 
peculiar  ideas  ?  " 

"  Oh,  you  can't  get  out  of  it  like  that  !  You  know 
that  isn't  the  point." 

"  What  in  the  world  is  then  ? "  cried  Harry. 
"  There's  nothing  else  the  matter,  is  there  ?  " 

Mina  could  hardly  sit  still  for  rage  ;  she  was  on 
pins. 

"  Nothing  else  ?  "  She  gathered  herself  together  for 
the  attack.  "  What  did  you  take  her  to  dinner  and  to 
the  theatre  for  ?    What  did  you  bring  her  home  for  ?  " 

"  I  wanted  to  be  friendly.  I  wanted  to  soften  what  I 
had  to  say." 

"  To  soften  it  !  Not  you  !  Shall  I  tell  you  what  you 
wanted,  Mr  Tristram?  Sometimes  men  seem  to  know 
so  little  about  themselves  !  " 

"  If  you'll  philosophize  on  the  subject  of  men — about 
which  you  know  a  lot,  of  course — I'll  listen  with 
pleasure." 

"  It's  the  horrible  selfishness  of  the  thing.  Why 
didn't  you  send  her  away  directly  ?  Oh,  no,  you  kept 
her,  you  made  yourself  pleasant,  you  made  her  think 
vou  liked  her " 

"  What  ?  " 

"  You  never  thought  of  anything  but  yourself  all  the 
way  through.  You  were  lecturing  her  ?  Oh,  no  !  You 
were  posing  and  posturing.  Being  very  fine  and  very 
heroic  !  And  then  at  the  end  you  turned  round  and — 
and  as  good  as  struck  her  in  the  face.  Oh,  I  hope 
she'll  never  speak  to  you  again  ! " 

"  Did  she  send  you  to  say  this  ?  " 

"  Of  course  not." 

[292] 


The  Persistence   of   Blent 

"  Yes,  of  course  not  !  You're  right  there.  If  it  had 
happened  to  be  in  any  way  your  business " 

"  Ah  !  "  cried  the  Imp  triumphantly.  "  You've  no 
answer,  so  you  turn  round  and  abuse  me  !  But  I 
don't  care.  I  meant  to  tell  you  what  I  thought  of  you, 
and  I've  done  it." 

"  A  post-card  would  have  done  it  as  well,"  Harry 
suggested. 

"  But  you've  gone  too  far,  oh  yes,  you  have.  If  you 
ever  change  your  mind " 

"  What  about  ?  Oh,  don't  talk  nonsense,  Madame 
Zabriska." 

"  It's  not  nonsense.  You  behaved  even  worse  than 
I  think  if  you're  not  at  least  half  in  love  with  her." 

Harry  threw  a  quick  glance  at  her. 

"  That  would  be  very  unlucky  for  me,"  he  remarked. 

"  V^ery — now,"  said  the  Imp  with  every  appearance 
of  delight. 

"  London  will  be  dull  without  you,  Madame 
Zabriska." 

'*  I'm  not  going  to  take  any  more  trouble  about  you, 
anyhow." 

He  rose  and  walked  over  to  her. 

"  In  the  end,"  he  said  more  seriously,  "  what's  your 
complaint  against  me  ?  " 

"  You've  made  Cecily  terribly  unhappy." 

"  I  couldn't  help  it.  She — she  did  an  impossible 
thing." 

"  After  which  you  made  her  spend  the  evening  with 
you  !  Even  a  Tristram  must  have  had  a  reason  for 
that." 

"  I've  told  you.  I  felt  friendly  and  I  wanted  her  to  be 
friendly.  And  I  like  her.  The  whole  thing's  a  ludi- 
crous trifle."  He  paused  a  moment  and  added  :  "  I'm 
sorry  if  she's  distressed." 

"  You've  marie  cvcrvthing  impossible — that's  all." 

L-^93J 


Tristram  (?/"  Blent 

"  I  don't  understand.  It  so  happens  that  to-day  all 
sorts  of  things  have  begun  to  seem  possible  to  me. 
Perhaps  you've  seen  your  uncle  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  have, — and — and  it  would  have  been  splen- 
did if  you  hadn't  treated  her  as  you  did." 

"  You  hint  at  something  I  know  nothing  about." 
He  was  growing  angry  again.  ''  I  really  believe  I  could 
manage  my  own  affairs."  He  returned  to  his  pet 
grievance. 

"  You  don't  understand  ?  Well,  you  will  soon."  She 
grew  cooler  as  her  mischievous  pleasure  in  puzzling 
him  overcame  her  wrath.  "  You'll  know  what  you've 
done  soon." 

"  Shall  I  ?      How  shall  I  find  it  out  ?  " 

"  You'll  be  sorry  when — when  a  certain  thing 
happens." 

He  threw  himself  into  a  chair  with  a  peevish  laugh. 

"  I  confess  your  riddles  rather  bore  me.  Is  there  any 
answer  to  this  one?  " 

"  Yes,  very  soon.  I've  been  to  see  Lady  Evens- 
wood." 

"  She  knows  the  answer,  does  she?  " 

"  Perhaps."  Her  animation  suddenly  left  her.  "  But 
I  suppose  it's  all  no  use  now,"  she  said  dolefully. 

They  sat  silent  for  a  minute  or  two,  Harry  seeming 
to  fall  into  a  fit  of  abstraction. 

"  What  did  you  mean  by  saying  I  oughtn't  to  have 
taken  her  to  dinner  and  so  on  ? "  he  asked,  as  Mina 
rose  to  go. 

She  shook  her  head.  "  I've  nothing  more  to  say," 
she  declared. 

"  And  you  say  I'm  half  in  love  with  her  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  do,"  she  snapped  viciously  as  she  turned 
toward  the  door.  But  she  looked  back  at  him  before 
she  went  out. 

"  As  far  as  that  goes,"  he  said  slowly,  "  I'm  not  sure 

I294] 


The  Persistence  of  Blent 

you're  wrong,  Madame  Zabriska.  But  I  could  never 
marry  her." 

The  Imp  launched  a  prophecy,  confidently,  triumph- 
antly, maliciously. 

"  Before  very  long  she'll  be  the  one  to  say  that,  and 
vou've  got  yourself  to  thank  for  it  too  !    Good-by  !  " 

She  was  gone.  Harry  sat  down  and  slowly  filled  and 
lit  his  pipe.  It  was  probably  all  nonsense  ;  but  again  he 
recollected  Cecily's  words  :  "  If  ever  the  time  comes,  I 
shall  remember  !  " 

Whatever  might  be  the  state  of  his  feelings  toward 
her,  or  of  hers  toward  him,  a  satisfactory  outcome 
seemed  impossible.  And  somehow  this  notion  had  the 
effect  of  spoiling  the  success  of  the  day  for  Harry 
Tristram  ;  so  that  among  the  Imp's  whirling  words 
there  was  perhaps  a  grain  or  two  of  wisdom.  At  least 
liis  talk  with  her  did  not  make  Harry's  visions  less  con- 
stant or  less  intense. 


[295] 


XXII 

An  Insult  to  the  Blood 

IT  could  not  be  denied  that  Blinkhampton  was 
among  the  things  which  arose  out  of  Blent.  To 
acknowledge  even  so  much  Harry  felt  to  be  a  slur 
on  his  independence,  on  the  new  sense  of  being  able 
to  do  things  for  himself  in  which  his  pride,  robbed  of 
its  old  opportunities,  was  taking  refuge  and  finding 
consolation.  It  was  thanks  to  himself  anyhow  that  it 
had  so  arisen,  for  Iver  was  not  the  man  to  mingle  busi- 
ness and  sentiment.  Harrv  snatched  this  comfort,  and 
threw  his  energies  into  the  work,  both  as  a  trial  of  his 
powers  and  as  a  safeguard  against  his  thoughts.  He 
went  down  to  the  place  and  stayed  a  week.  The  result 
of  his  visit  was  a  report  which  Iver  showed  to  South- 
end with  a  very  significant  nod  ;  even  the  mistakes  in 
it,  themselves  inevitable  from  want  of  experience,  were 
the  errors  of  a  large  mind.  The  touch  of  dogmatism 
did  not  displease  a  man  who  valued  self-confidence 
above  all  other  qualities. 

"  The  lad  will  do  ;  he'll  make  his  way,"  said  Iver. 

Southend  smiled.  Lads  who  are  equal  to  making 
their  own  way  may  go  very  far  if  they  are  given  such  a 
start  as  he  had  in  contemplation  for  Harry.  But  would 
things  go  right  ?  Southend  had  received  an  incoherent 
but  decidedly  despairing  letter  from  Mina  Zabriska. 
He  put  it  in  the  fire,  saying  nothing  to  Lady  Evens- 
wood,  and  nothing,  of  course,  to  Mr  Disney.  In  the 
end  there  was  perhaps  no  absolutely  necessary  connec- 
tion between  the  two  parts  of  the  scheme — that  which 
concerned  the  lady,  and  that  which  depended  on  the 

[296] 


An   Insuli"  to  the   Blood 

Minister.  Yet  the  first  would  make  the  second  so 
much  more  easy  ! 

Mr  Disney  had  given  no  sign  yet.  There  was  a  crisis 
somewhere  abroad,  and  a  colleague  understood  to  be 
self-opinionated  ;  there  was  a  crisis  in  the  Church,  and 
a  bishopric  vacant.  Lady  Evenswood  was  of  opinion 
that  the  least  attempt  to  hurry  Robert  would  be  fatal. 
There  were,  after  all,  limits  to  the  importance  of  Harry 
Tristram's  case,  and  Robert  was  likely,  if  worried,  to 
state  the  fact  with  his  own  merciless  vigor,  and  with 
that  to  say  good-by  to  the  whole  affair.  The  only 
person  seriously  angry  at  the  Prime  Minister's 
"  dawdling,"  was  Mina  Zabriska  ;  and  she  had  enjoyed 
no  chance  of  telling  him  so.  To  make  such  an  oppor- 
tunity for  her  was  too  hazardous  an  experiment  ;  it 
might  have  turned  out  well — one  could  never  tell  with 
Robert — but  on  the  whole  it  was  not  to  be  risked. 

What  Lady  Evenswood  would  not  venture,  fortune 
dared.  Mina  had  been  seeing  sights — it  was  August 
now,  a  suitable  month  for  the  task — and  one  evening, 
about  half-past  six,  she  landed  her  weary  bones  on  a 
seat  in  St  James's  Park  for  a  few  moments'  rest  before 
she  faced  the  Underground.  The  place  was  very  empty, 
the  few  people  there  lay  for  the  most  part  asleep — 
workmen  with  the  day's  labor  done.  Presently  she 
saw  two  men  walking  slowly  toward  her  from  the  di- 
rection of  Westminster.  One  was  tall  and  slight,  hand- 
some and  distinguished  in  appearance  ;  in  the  other 
she  recognized  the  rugged  awkward  man  whom  she 
had  met  at  Lady  Evenswood's.  He  was  talking  hard, 
hitting  his  fist  into  the  palm  of  his  other  hand  some- 
times. The  handsome  man  listened  with  deference, 
])ut  frowned  and  seemed  troubled.  Suddenly  the  pair 
stopped. 

"  I  must  get  back  to  the  House,"  she  heard  the  hand- 
some man  say. 

[297] 


Tristram   of  V)  l  e  n  t 

"  Well,  think  it  over.  Try  to  see  it  in  that  light,"  said 
Disney,  holding  out  his  hand.  The  other  took  it,  and 
then  turned  away.  The  episode  would  have  been  worth 
a  good  paragraph  and  a  dozen  conjectures  to  a  re- 
porter ;  the  handsome  man  was  the  self-opinionated 
colleague,  and  the  words  Mina  had  heard,  were  they 
not  clear  proof  of  dissensions  in  the  Cabinet  ? 

Disney  stood  stock-still  on  the  path,  not  looking  after 
his  recalcitrant  colleague,  but  down  on  the  ground  ;  his 
thoughts  made  him  unconscious  of  things  external. 
Mina  glowed  with  excitement.  He  was  not  an 
awkward  man  to  her  ;  he  was  a  great  and  surprising 
fact,  a  wonderful  institution,  the  more  wonderful  be- 
cause (to  look  at  him)  he  might  have  been  a  superior 
mechanic  who  had  dropped  sixpence  and  was  scanning 
the  ground  for  it.  She  was  really  appalled,  but  her 
old  instinct  and  habit  of  interference,  of  not  letting 
things  go  by  her  without  laying  at  least  a  finger  on 
them,  worked  in  her  too.  How  long  would  he  stand 
there  motionless  ?  As  if  the  ground  could  tell  him 
anything!  Yet  she  was  not  impatient  of  his  stillness. 
It  was  good  to  sit  and  watch  him. 

An  artisan  swung  by,  his  tools  over  his  back.  Mina 
saw  the  suddenly  awakened  attention  with  which  his 
head  turned  to  Disney.  He  slackened  pace  a  moment, 
and  then,  after  an  apparent  hesitation,  lifted  his  cap. 
"'"here  was  no  sign  that  Disney  saw  him,  save  that  he 
touched  his  hat  in  almost  vmconscious  acknowledg- 
ment. The  artisan  went  by,  but  stopped,  turned  to  look 
again,  and  exchanged  an  amused  smile  with  Mina.  He 
glanced  round  twice  again  before  he  was  out  of  sight. 
Mina  sighed  in  enjoyment. 

With  a  quick  jerk  of  his  head  Disney  began  to  walk 
on  slowly.  For  an  instant  Mina  did  not  know  what  she 
would  do  ;  the  fear  and  the  attraction  struggled.  Then 
she  jumped  up  and  walked  toward  him-     Her  manner 

[298] 


An  Insult  to  the  Blood 

tried  to  assert  that  she  had  not  noticed  him.  She  was 
almost  by  him.  She  gave  a  cough.  He  looked  up. 
Would  he  know  her  ?  Would  he  remember  asking — ■ 
no,  directing — my  lord  his  secretary  to  write  to  her, 
and  had  he  read  what  she  wrote  ?  He  was  looking  at 
her.  She  dared  a  hurried  little  bow.  He  came  to  a 
stand-still  again. 

"  Yes,  yes  ?  "  he  said  questioningly. 

"  Madame  Zabriska,  Mr    Disney.'" 

"  Oh,  yes."  His  voice  sounded  a  little  disappointed. 
"  I  met  you  at ?  " 

"  At  Lady  Evenswood's,  Mr  Disney."  Taking 
courage  she  added,  "  I  sent  what  you  wanted  ?  " 

"  What  I  wanted  ?  " 

"  Yes.  What  you  wanted  me  to  write,  about — about 
the  Tristrams." 

"  Yes."  The  voice  sounded  now  as  if  he  had  placed 
her.  He  smiled  a  little.  "  I  remember  it  all  now.  I 
read  it  the  other  morning."  He  nodded  at  her,  as  if 
that  finished  the  matter.  But  Mina  did  not  move. 
"  I'm  busy  just  now,"  he  added,  "but — W>11,  how's 
your  side  of  the  affair  going  on,  Madame  Zabriska  ? 
I've  heard  nothing  from  my  cousin  about  that." 

"  It's  just  wonderful  to  see  you  like  this  !  "  the  Imp 
blurted  out. 

That  amused  him  ;  she  saw  the  twinkle  in  his  eye. 

"  Never  mind    me.      Tell  me    about  the  Tristram 


cousins." 


"  Oh,  you  are  thinking  of  it  then  ?  " 

"  I  never  tell  what  I'm  thinking  about.  That's  the 
only  reason  people  think  me  clever.    The  cousins  ?  " 

"  Oh,  that's  all  dreadful.  At  least  I  believe  they  are 
—they  would  be — in  love;  but — but — Mr  Tristram's 
so  difficult,  so  obstinate,  so  proud.  I  don't  suppose  you 
understand " 

"  You're  the  second  person  who's  told  me  I  can't 

[299] 


Tristram  ^  Blent 

understand,  in  the  last  half-hour."  He  was  smiling 
now,  as  he  coupled  Mina  and  the  handsome  recalcitrant 
colleague  in  his  protest.     "  I'm  not  sure  of  it." 

"  And  she's  been  silly,  and  he's  been  horrid,  and  just 
now— well,  it's  all  as  bad  as  can  be,  Mr  Disney." 

"  Is  it  ?  You  must  get  it  better  than  that,  you  know, 
before  I  can  do  anything.    Good-night." 

^1  Oh,  stop,  do  stop  !    Do  say  what  you  mean  !  " 

"  I  shan't  do  anything  of  the  kind.  You  may  tell 
Lady  Evens  wood  what  I've  said  and  she'll  tell  you  what 
I  mean." 

"  Oh,  but  please " 

"  If  you  stop  me  any  longer,  I  shall  send  you  to  the 
Tower.     Tell  Lady  Evenswood  and  Southend.     If  I 

didn't  do  my  business  better  than  you  do  yours !  " 

He  shrugged  his  shoulders  with  a  good-natured  rude- 
ness. "Good-night,"  he  said. again,  and  this  time  Mina 
dared  not  stop  him.  Twenty  yards  further  on  he  halted 
once  more  of  his  own  accord  and  fell  into  thought. 
Mina  watched  him  till  he  moved  on  again,  slowly  mak- 
ing his  w-ay  across  the  Mall  and  toward  St  James's 
Street.  A  great  thing  had  happened  to  her — she  felt 
that  ;  and  she  had  news  too  that  she  was  to  tell  to 
Southend  and  Lady  Evenswood.  There  was  consider- 
able unsettlement  in  the  Imp's  mind  that  night. 

The  next  day  found  her  at  Lady  Evenswood's.  The 
old  lady  and  Southend  (who  had  been  summoned  on 
Mina's  command — certainly  Mina  was  getting  up  in 
the  world)  understood  perfectly.  They  nodded  wise 
heads. 

"  I  was  always  inclined  to  think  that  Robert  would 
take  that  view." 

"  He  fears  that  the  Bearsdale  case  won't  carry  him 
all  the  way.    Depend  upon  it,  that's  what  he  feels." 

"  Well,  there  was  the  doubt  there,  you  see." 

Mina  was  rather  tired  of  the  doubt  in  the  Bearsdale 

[300] 


An   Insult  to  the  Blood 

case.  It  was  always  cropping  up  and  being  mentioned 
as  though  it  were  something  exceedingly  meritori- 
ous. 

"  And  in  poor  Addie's  case  of  course  there — well, 
there  wasn't,"  proceeded  Lady  Evenswood  with  a  sigh. 
"  So  Robert  feels  that  it  might  be  thought " 

"  The  people  with  consciences  would  be  at  him,  I 
suppose,"  said  Southend  scornfully. 

"  But  if  the  marriage  came  off " 

"  Oh,  I  see  !  "  cried  the  Imp. 

"  Then  he  would  feel  able  to  act.  It  would  look 
merely  like  putting  things  back  as  they  were,  you  see, 
Mina.'' 

"  Do  you  think  he  means  the  viscounty  ?  "  asked 
Southend. 

"  It  would  be  so  much  more  convenient.  And  they 
could  have  had  an  earldom  once  before  if  they'd  liked." 

"  Oh,  twice,"  corrected  Southend  confidently. 

"  I  know  it's  said,  but  I  don't  believe  it.  You  mean 
in  1816  ?" 

"  Yes.  Everybody  knows  that  they  could  have  had 
it  from  Mr  Pitt." 

"  Well,  George.  I  don't  believe  about  1^16.  At  least 
my  father  heard  Lord  Liverpool  say " 

"  Oh,  dear  me  !  "  murmured  the  Imp.  This  his- 
torical inquiry  was  neither  comprehensible  nor  interest- 
ing. But  they  discussed  it  eagerly  for  some  minutes 
before  agreeing  that,  wherever  the  truth  lay,  a  vis- 
county could  not  be  considered  out  of  the  way  for  the 
Tristrams — legitimate  and  proper  Tristrams,  be  it 
understood. 

"  And  that's  where  the  match  would  be  of  decisive 
value,"  Lady  Evenswood  concluded. 

"  Disney  said  as  much  evidently.  So  you  under- 
stood, Madame  Zabriska  ?  " 

"  I  suppose  so.    I've  told  you  what  he  said." 

[301] 


Tristram  <?/^  Blent 

"  He  could  take  Blentmouth,  you  know.  It's  all  very 
simple." 

"  Well,  I'm  not  sure  that  our  friend  Iver  isn't  keeping 
that  for  himself,"  smiled  Southend. 

"  Oh,  he  can  be  Lord  Bricks  and  Putty,"  she  sug- 
gested, laughing.  But  there  seemed  in  her  words  a 
deplorable  hint  of  scorn  for  that  process  by  which  the 
vitality  (not  to  say  the  solvency)  of  the  British  aris- 
tocracy is  notoriously  maintained.  "  Blentmouth 
would  do  very  well  for  Harry  Tristram." 

"  Well  then,  what's  to  be  done  ?  "  asked  Southend. 

"  We  must  give  him  a  hint,  George." 

"  Have  we  enough  to  go  upon  ?  Suppose  Disney 
turned  round  and " 

"  Robert  won't  do  that.  Besides,  we  needn't  pledge 
anything.  We  can  just  put  the  case."  She  smiled 
thoughtfully.  "  I'm  still  not  quite  sure  how  Mr  Tris- 
tram will  take  it,  you  know." 

"  How  he'll  take  it  ?    He'll  jump  at  it,  of  course." 

"  The  girl  or  the  title,  George  ?  " 

"  Well,  both  together.  Won't  he,  Madame 
Zabriska  ?  " 

Mina  thought  great  things  of  the  girl,  and  even 
greater,  if  vaguer,  of  the  title. 

"  I  should  just  think  so,"  she  replied  complacently. 
There  was  a  limit  to  the  perversity  even  of  the  Tris- 
trams. 

"  We  mustn't  put  it  too  baldly,"  observed  Southend, 
dangling  his  eyeglass. 

"  Oh,  he'll  think  more  of  the  thing  itself  than  of  how 
we  put  it,"  Lady  Evenswood  declared. 

From  her  knowledge  of  Harry,  the  Imp  was  exactly 
of  that  opinion.  But  Southend  was  for  diplomacy  ; 
indeed  what  pleasure  is  there  in  manoeuvring  schemes 
if  they  are  not  to  be  conducted  with  delicacy  ?  A 
policy  that  can  be  defined  on  a  postage  stamp  has  no 

I302] 


An   Insult  to  the  Blood 

attraction  for  ingenious  minds,  although  it  is  usually 
the  most  effective  with  a  nation. 

Harry  Tristram  returned  from  Blinkhampton  in  a 
state  of  intellectual  satisfaction  marred  by  a  sense  of 
emotional  emptiness.  He  had  been  very  active,  very 
energetic,  very  successful.  He  had  new  and  cogent 
evidence  of  his  power,  not  merely  to  start  but  to  go 
ahead  on  his  own  account.  This  Avas  the  good  side.  But 
he  discovered  and  tried  to  rebuke  in  himself  a  feeling 
that  he  had  so  far  wasted  the  time  in  that  he  had  seen 
nobody  and  nothing  beautiful.  Men  of  affairs  had  no 
concern  with  a  feeling  like  that.  Would  Tver  have  it, 
or  would  Mr  Disney  ?  Surely  not  !  It  would  be  a 
positive  inconvenience  to  them,  or  at  best  a  worthless 
asset.  He  traced  it  back  to  Blent,  to  that  influence 
which  he  had  almost  brought  himself  to  call  malign  be- 
cause it  seemed  in  some  subtle  way  enervating,  a  thing 
that  sought  to  clog  his  steps  and  hung  about  those 
feet  which  had  need  to  be  so  alert  and  nimble.  Yet 
the  old  life  at  Blent  would  not  have  served  by  itself 
now.  Was  he  to  turn  out  so  exacting  that  he  must  have 
both  Hves  before  he,  or  what  was  in  him,  could  cry 
"  Content  "  ?  A  man  will  sometimes  be  alarmed  when 
he  realizes  what  he  wants — a  woman  often. 

So  he  came,  in  obedience  to  Lady  Evenswood's 
summons,  very  confident  but  rather  sombre.  When  he 
arrived,  a  woman  was  there  whom  he  did  not  know. 
She  exhaled  fashion  and  the  air  of  being  exactly  the 
right  thing.  She  was  young — several  years  short  of 
forty — and  very  handsome.  Her  manner  was  quiet  and 
well-dowered  with  repressed  humor.  He  was  intro- 
duced to  Lady  Flora  Disney,  and  found  himself  re- 
garded with  unmistakable  interest  and  lurking  amuse- 
ment. It  was  no  effort  to  remember  that  Mr  Disney 
had  married  a  daughter  of  Lord  Bewdley's.  That  was 
enough  ;  just  as  he  knew  all  about  her,  she  would  know 

[303] 


Tristram  of  Blent 

all  about  him  ;  they  were  both  of  the  pale  in  a  sense 
that  their  hostess  was,  but  Lord  Southend — well, 
hardly  was — and  (absurdly  enough)  Mr  Disney  himself 
not  at  all.  This  again  was  in  patent  incongruity  with 
Blinkhampton  and  smelt  wofully  strong  of  Blent. 
Lady  Evenswood  encouraged  Harry  to  converse  with 
the  visitor. 

"  We're  a  little  quieter,"  she  was  saying.  "  The  crisis 
is  dormant,  and  the  bishop's  made,  and  Lord  Hove  has 
gone  to  consult  the  Duke  of  Dexminster — which  means 
a  fortnight's  delay  anyhow,  and  probably  being  told  to 
do  nothing  in  the  end.  So  I  sometimes  see  Robert  at 
dinner." 

"  And  he  tells  you  things,  and  you're  indiscreet 
about  them  !  "  said  Lady  Evenswood  rebukingly. 

"  I  believe  Robert  considers  me  a  sort  of  ante-room 
to  publicity.  And  it's  so  much  easier  to  disown  a  wife 
than  a  journalist,  isn't  it,  Mr  Tristram  ?  " 

"  Naturally.  The  Press  have  to  pretend  to  believe 
one  another,"  he  said,  smiling. 

"  That's  the  corner-stone,"  Southend  agreed. 

"  Great  is  Diana  of  the  Ephesians  !  "  pursued  Lady 
Flora.  "  But  Diana  was  never  a  wife,  if  I  re- 
member." 

"  Though  how  they  do  it,  my  dear,"  marvelled  Lady 
Evenswood,  "  is  what  I  don't  understand." 

"  I  know  nothing  about  them,"  Lady  Flora  declared. 
"  And  they  know  nothing  about  me.  They  stop  at  my 
gowns,  you  know,  and  even  then  they  always  confuse 
me  with  Gertrude  Melrose." 

"  I  hope  that  stops  at  the  gown  too  ?  "  observed 
Southend. 

"  The  hair  does  it,  I  think.  She  buys  hers  at  the 
same  shop  as  I — Now  what  do  I  do,  Mr  Tristram  ?  " 
You,  Lady  Flora  ?    You  know  the  shop.    Is  that 


enough  ? 


[304] 


An   Insult  to  the  Blood 

"  Yes,  or — well,  no.  I  supplement  there.  I  declare 
I  won't  wait  any  longer  for  Robert." 

"  He  won't  come  now,"  said  Lady  Evenswood.  "  Is 
the  bishop  nice,  my  dear  ?  " 

"  Oh,  yes,  quite  plump  and  gaitery  !  Good-by,  dear 
Cousin  Sylvia.  I  wish  you'd  come  and  see  me,  Mr 
Tristram." 

Harry,  making  his  little  bow,  declared  that  he  would 
be  delighted. 

"  I  like  to  see  young  men  sometimes,"  observed  the 
lady,  retreating. 

"  The  new  style,"  Lady  Evenswood  summ_ed  up,  as 
the  door  closed.  "  And — well,  I  suppose  Robert  likes 
it." 

"  Dissiinilia  dissiuiilibns,"  shrugged  Southend,  fix- 
ing his  glasses. 

"  It's  the  only  concession  to  appearances  he  ever 
made,"  sighed  Ladv  Evenswood. 

'^  She's  a  lady,  though." 

"  Oh,  yes.  That's  what  makes  it  so  funny.  If  she 
weren't " 

"  Yes,  it  would  all  be  natural  enough." 

"  But  we've  been  wasting  your  time,  Mr  Tristram." 

"  Never  less  wasted  since  I  was  born,"  protested 
Harry,  who  had  both  enjoyed  and  learnt. 

"  No,  really  I  think  not,"  she  agreed,  smiling.  "Plora 
has  her  power." 

The  remark  grated  on  him  ;  he  wanted  nothing  of 
I'lora  and  her  power  ;  it  was  indeed  rather  an  un- 
fortunate introduction  to  the  business  of  the  afternoon  ; 
it  pointed  Harry's  quills  a  little.  Lady  Evenswood, 
with  a  quick  perception,  tried  to  retrieve  the  obser- 
vation. 

"  But  she  likes  people  who  are  independent  best," 
she  went  on.  "  So  does  Robert,  if  it  comes  to  that. 
Indeed  he  never  does  a  job  for  anyone." 

[305] 


Tristram   <?/' Blent 

"  Carries  tliat  too  far  in  my  opinion,"  commented 
Soutliend.    The  moment  for  diplomacy  approached. 

But  when  it  came  to  the  point,  Lady  Evenswood 
suavely  took  the  task  out  of  his  hands.  Her  instinct 
told  her  that  she  could  do  it  best  ;  he  soon  came  to 
agree.  She  had  that  delicacy  which  he  desired  but 
lacked  ;  she  could  claim  silence  when  he  must  have 
suffered  interruption  ;  she  could  excuse  her  interfer- 
ence on  the  gi'ound  of  old  friendship  ;  she  could  plead 
an  interest  which  might  seem  impertinent  in  him. 
Above  all,  she  could  be  elusively  lucid  and  make  her- 
self understood  without  any  bluntness  of  statement. 

"  If  it  could  be  so  managed  that  the  whole  miserable 
accident  should  be  blotted  out  and  forgotten  !  "  she  ex- 
claimed, as  though  she  implored  a  personal  favor. 

"  How  can  that  be  ?  "  asked  Harry.  "  I  was  in,  and 
I  am  out,  Lady  Evenswood." 

"  You're  out,  and  your  cousin's  in,  yes."  Harry's 
eyes  noted  the  words  and  dwelt  on  her  face.  "  She 
can't  be  happy  in  that  state  of  affairs  either." 

"  Perhaps  not,"  he  admitted.  "  P^acts  are  facts, 
though." 

"  There  are  ways — ways  of  preventing  that,"  South- 
end interposed,  murmuring  vaguely. 

"  I  don't  know  how  you'll  feel  about  it,  but  we  all 
think  you  ought  to  consider  other  things  besides  your 
personal  preferences.  Might  I  tell  Mr  Disney — no,  one 
moment,  please  !  Our  idea,  I  mean,  was  that  there 
might  be  a  family  arrangement.  A  moment,  please, 
Mr  Tristram  !  I  don't  mean,  by  which  she  would  lose 
what  she  has " 

"  But  that  I  should  get  it  ?  " 

"  Well,  yes.  Oh,  I  know  your  feelings.  But  they 
would  cease  to  exist  if  you  came  to  her  on  an  equality, 
with  what  is  really  and  truly  your  proper  position  recog- 
nized and — and " 

[306] 


An  Insult  to  the  Blood 

"  Regularized,"  Southend  supplied  with  a  sharp 
glance  at  Harry. 

"  I  don't  understand,"  Harry  declared.  "  You  must 
tell  me  what  you  mean.  Is  it  something  that  concerns 
Cecily  as  well  as  me  ?  " 

"  Oh,  about  that  we  haven't  the  right  even  to  ask 
your  feelings.  That  would  be  simply  for  you  to  con- 
sider.   But  if  anything  were  to  happen " 

"  Nothing  could."  Harry  restrained  himself  no 
longer.    "  There  can  be  no  question  of  it." 

"  I  knew  you'd  feel  like  that.  Just  because  you  feel 
like  that,  I  want  to  make  the  other  suggestion  to  you. 
I'm  not  speaking  idly.  I  have  my  warrant,  Mr  Tris- 
tram.   If "    She  was  at  a  loss  for  a  moment.    "  If 

you  ever  went  back  to  Blent,"  she  continued,  not  satis- 
tied,  but  driven  to  some  form  of  words,  "  it  isn't  inevi- 
table that  you  should  go  as  Mr  Tristram.  There  are 
means  of  righting  such  injustices  as  yours.  Wait, 
please  !  It  would  be  felt — and  felt  in  a  quarter  you  can 
guess — that  the  master  of  Blent,  which  you'd  be  in 
fact  anyhow,  should  have  that  position  recognized. 
Perhaps  there  would  not  be  the  same  feeling  unless 
you  were  still  associated  with  Blent." 

"  I  don't  understand  at  all." 

She  exchanged  a  despairing  glance  with  Southend  ; 
she  could  not  tell  whether  or  not  he  was  sincere  in  say- 
ing that  he  did  not  understand.  Southend  grew  weary 
of  the  diplomacy  which  he  had  advocated  ;  after  all  it 
had  turned  out  to  be  Lady  Evenswood's,  not  his,  which 
may  have  had  something  to  do  with  his  change  of  mood 
toward  it.  He  took  up  the  task  with  a  brisk  direct- 
ness. 

"  It's  like  this,  Harry.  You  remember  that  the  un- 
successful claimant  in  the  Bearsdale  case  got  a  barony  ? 
That's  our  precedent.  But  it's  felt  not  to  go  quite  all 
the  way — because  there  was  a  doubt  there.     (Luckily 

[307] 


Tristram  ^/VB  l  e  n  t 

for  Aiina  she  was  not  by  to  hear.)  But  it  is  felt  that  in 
the  event  of  the  two  branches  of  your  family  being 
united  it  would  be  proper  to — to  obliterate  past — er — 
incidents.  And  that  could  be  done  by  raising  you  to 
the  peerage,  under  a  new  and,  as  we  hope,  a  superior 
title.  We  believe  Mr  Disney  would,  under  the  cir- 
cumstances I  have  suggested,  be  prepared  to  recom- 
mend a  viscounty,  and  that  there  would  prove  to  be 
no  difficulties  in  the  way."  The  last  words  had,  pre- 
sumably, reference  to  the  same  quarter  that  Lady 
Evenswood  had  once  described  bv  the  words,  "  Some- 
body Else." 

They  watched  him  as  he  digested  the  proposal,  at 
last  made  to  him  in  a  tolerably  plain  form.  "  You  must 
give  me  a  moment  to  follow  that  out,"  he  said,  with  a 
smile.  But  he  had  it  all  clear  enough  before  he  would 
allow  them  to  perceive  that  he  understood.  For 
although  his  brain  made  easy  work  of  it,  his  feelings 
demanded  a  pause.  He  was  greatly  surprised.  He 
had  thought  of  no  such  a  thing.  What  dilTerences 
would  it  make  ? 

Southend  was  well  satisfied  with  the  way  in  which 
his  overture  was  received.  Lady  Evenswood  was 
watching  intently. 

"  The  idea  is "  said  Harry  slowly — "  I  mean — I 

don't  quite  gather  what  it  is.  You  talk  of  my  cousin, 
and  then  of  a  viscounty.  The  two  go  together,  do 
they  ? " 

It  was  rather  an  awkward  question  put  as  bluntly  as 
that. 

"  Well,  that  did  seem  to  be  Mr  Disney's  view,"  said 
Southend. 

''  He  was  thinking  of  the  family — of  the  family  as  a 
whole.  I'm  sure  you  think  of  that  too,"  urged  Lady 
Evenswood.  There  would  never  be  a  Tristram  who 
did  not,  she  was  thinking.     Well,  except  Addie  per- 

[308] 


An   Insult  to  the   Blood 

haps,  who  really  thought  of  nothing.  "  Of  course  as 
a  thing  purely  personal  to  you  it  might  be  just  a  little 
difificult."  She  meant,  and  intended  Harry  to  under- 
stand, that  without  the  marriage  the  thing  could  not  be 
done  at  all.  Mina  had  reported  ]Mr  Disney  faithfully, 
and  Lady  Evenswood's  knowledge  of  her  cousin 
Robert  was  not  at  fault.  "  Apart  from  anything  else, 
there  would  be  the  sordid  question,"  she  ended,  with  a 
smile  that  became  propitiatory  against  her  will ;  she 
had  meant  it  to  be  merely  confidential. 

There  was  ground  for  hope  ;  Harry  hesitated — truth 
will  out,  even  where  it  impairs  the  grandeur  of  men. 
The  suggestion  had  its  attractions  ;  it  touched  the 
spring  of  the  picturesque  in  him  which  Blinkhampton 
had  left  rusting  in  idleness.  It  suggested  something  in 
regard  to  Cecily  too — what  it  was,  he  did  not  reason 
out  very  clearly  at  the  moment.  Anyhow  what  was 
proposed  would  create  a  new  situation  and  put  him  in 
a  different  position  toward  her.  In  brief,  he  would 
have  something  more  on  his  side. 

"  Once  he  was  sure  the  proposal  was  agreeable  to 

you "  murmured   Lady  Evenswood   gently.      She 

was  still  very  tentative  about  the  matter,  and  still 
watchful  of  Harry. 

But  Southend  was  not  cautious  or  did  not  read  his 
man  so  well.  To  him  the  battle  seemed  to  be  won. 
He  was  assured  in  his  manner  and  decidedly  trium- 
phant as  he  said : 

"  It's  a  great  thing  to  have  screwed  Disney  up  to 
the  viscounty.  It  does  away  with  all  difficulty  about 
the  name,  you  see." 

Harry  looked  up  sharply.  Had  Mr  Disney  been 
"  screwed  up  ?  "  Who  had  screwed  him  up  ? — by 
what  warrant  ? — on  whose  commission  ?  That  was 
enough  to  make  him  glower  and  to  bring  back  some- 
thing of  the  old-time  look  of  suspicion  to  his  face.    But 

1309] 


'l^KisTRAM   of  Blent 

the  greater  part  of  his  attention  was  engrossed  by  the 
second  half  of  Southend's  ill-advised  bit  of  jubila- 
tion. 

"  The  name  ?  The  difficulty  about  the  name  ?  "  he 
asked. 

"  If  it  had  been  a  barony — well,  hers  would  take 
precedence,  of  course.  With  the  higher  degree  yours 
will  come  first,  and  her  barony  be  merged — Viscount 
Blentmouth,  eh,  Harry  ?  "    He  chuckled  with  glee. 

"  Viscount  Blentmouth  be  hanged  !  "  cried  Harry. 
He  mastered  himself  with  an  effort.  "  I  beg  your 
pardon.  Lady  Evenswood  ;  and  I'm  much  obliged  to 
you,  and  to  you  too,  Lord  Southend,  for — for  screwing 
Mr  Disney  up.  It's  not  a  thing  I  could  or  should  have 
done  or  tried  to  do  for  myself."'  In  spite  of  his  at- 
tempted calmness  his  voice  grew  a  little  louder.  "  I 
want  nothing  but  what's  my  own.  If  nothing's  my 
ow^n,  well  and  good — I  can  wait  till  I  make  it  some- 
thing." 

"  But,  my  dear  Harry !  "  began  the  discomfited 

Southend.  Harry  cut  him  short,  breaking  again  into 
impetuous  speech. 

"  There's  nothing  between  my  cousin  and  me. 
There's  no  question  of  marriage  and  never  can  be. 

And  if  there  were "    He  seemed  to  gather  himself 

up  for  a  flight  of  scorn — "  If  there  were,  do  you  think 
I'm  going  to  save  my  own  pride  by  saddling  the  family 
with  a  beastly  new  viscounty  ?  " 

His  tones  rose  in  indignation  on  the  last  sentence,  as 
he  looked  from  one  to  the  other.  "  Viscount  Blent- 
mouth indeed  !  "  he  growled. 

Southend's  hands  were  out  before  him  in  signal  of 
bewildered  distress.  Lady  Evenswood  looked  at 
Harry,  then,  with  a  quick  forward  inclination  of  her 
body,  past  him  ;  and  she  began  to  laugh. 

"  Thank  you  very  much,  ])ut  I've  been  Tristram  of 

[310] 


An  Insult  to  the   Blood 

Blent,"'  ended  Harry,  now  in  a  very  fine  fume,  and  feel- 
ing he  had  been  much  insulted. 

Still  looking-  past  him,  Lady  Evenswood  sat  laughing 
quietly.  Even  on  Southend's  face  came  an  uneasv 
smile,  as  he  too  looked  toward  the  door.  After  a  mo- 
ment's furious  staring  at  the  two  Harry  faced  round. 
The  door  had  been  softly  and  noiselessly  opened  to  the 
extent  of  a  couple  of  feet.  A  man  stood  in  the  doorway, 
tugging  at  a  ragged  beard  and  with  eyes  twinkling 
under  rugged  brows.  Who  was  he,  and  how  did 
he  come  there?  Harry  heard  Lady  Evenswood's 
laughter  ;  he  heard  her  murmur  to  herself  with  an  ac- 
cent of  pleasure,  "  A  beastly  new  viscounty !  "  Then 
the  man  in  the  doorway  came  a  little  farther  in,  saying: 

"  That's  exactly  what  I  think  about  it,  Mr  Tristram. 
I've  heard  what  you  said  and  I  agree  with  you.  There's 
an  end,  then,  of  the  beastly  new  viscounty  !  "  He 
looked  mockingly  at  Southend.  "  I've  been  screwed 
up  all  for  nothing,  it  seems,"  said  he. 

"  Why,  you're ?  " 

"  Let  me  introduce  myself,  Mr  Tristram.  I  came  to 
look  for  my  wife,  and  my  name  is  Disney.  I  intend  to 
keep  mine,  and  I  know  better  than  to  try  to  alter  yours." 

"  I  thought  it  would  end  like  this  I  "  cried  Lady 
Evenswood. 

"  Shan't  we  say  that  it  begins  like  this  ?  "  asked  Mr 
Disney.    His  look  at  Harry  was  a  compliment. 


fSll] 


XXIII 

A  Decree  of  Banishment 

f "  I  ^HE  Imp  cried — absolutely  cried  for  vexation — 
I  when  a  curt  and  sour  note  from  Southend  told 
M  her  the  issue.  The  blow  struck  down  her  ex- 
citement and  her  exultation.  Away  went  all  joy  in  her 
encounter  with  Mr  Disney,  all  pride  in  the  skill  with 
which  she  had  negotiated  with  the  Prime  Minister. 
The  ending-  was  pitiful — disgusting  and  pitiful.  She 
poured  out  her  heart's  bitterness  to  Major  Duplay,  whc^ 
had  come  to  visit  her. 

"  I'm  tired  of  the  whole  thing,  and  I  hate  the  Tris- 
trams  !  "  she  declared. 

"  It  always  comes  to  that  in  time,  Mina,  when  you 
mix  yourself  up  in  people's  affairs." 

"  Wasn't  it  through  you  that  I  began  to  do  it  ?  " 

The  Major  declined  to  argue  the  question — one  of 
some  complexity  perhaps. 

"  Well,  I've  got  plenty  to  do  in  London.  Let's  give 
up  Merrion  and  take  rooms  here." 

"  Give  up  Merrion  !  "  She  was  startled.  But  the 
reasons  she  assigned  were  prudential.  "  I've  taken  it 
till  October,  and  I  can't  afford  to.  Besides,  what's  the 
use  of  being  here  in  August  ?  " 

"  You  won't  drop  it  yet,  you  see."  The  reasons  did 
not  deceive  Duplay. 

"  I  don't  think  I  ought  to  desert  Cecily.  I  suppose 
she'll  go  back  to  Blent.  Oh,  what  an  exasperating 
man  he  is  !  " 

"  Doesn't  look  as  if  the  match  would  come  ofif  now, 
does  it  ?  " 

[312] 


A   Decree  of  Banishment 

"  It's  just  desperate.  The  last  chance  is  gone,  i 
don't  know  what  to  do.'' 

"  Marry  him  yourself,"  advised  the  Major.  Though 
it  was  an  old  idea  of  his,  he  was  not  very  serious. 

"  I'd  sooner  poison  him,"  said  Mina  decisively. 
"  What  must  Mr  Disney  think  of  me  ?  " 

"  I  shouldn't  trouble  about  that.  Do  you  suppose 
he  thinks  much  at  all,  Mina  ?  "  (That  is  the  sort  of  re- 
mark which  relatives  sometimes  regard  as  consolatory. ) 
"  I  think  Harry  Tristram  as  much  of  a  fool  as  you  do," 
Duplay  added.  "  If  he'd  taken  it,  he  could  have  made 
a  good  match  anyhow,  even  if  he  didn't  get  Lady 
Tristram." 

"  Cecily's  just  as  bad.  She's  retired  into  her  shell. 
You  don't  know  that  way  of  hers — of  theirs,  I  suppose 
it  is,  bother  them  !  She's  treating  everybody  and 
everything  as  if  they  didn't  exist." 

"  She'll  go  back  to  Blent,  I  suppose 

"  Well,  she  must.    Somebody  must  have  it." 

"  If  it's  going  begging,  call  on  me,"  said  the  Majoi 
equably.  He  was  in  a  better  humor  with  the 
world  than  he  had  been  for  a  long  while  ;  his  connec- 
tion with  Iver  promised  well.  But  Mina  sniffed  scorn- 
fully ;  she  was  in  no  mood  for  idle  jests. 

Cecily  had  been  told  about  the  scheme  and  its  lament 
able  end.  Her  attitude  was  one  of  entire  unconcern. 
What  was  it  to  her  if  Harry  were  made  a  viscount,  a 
duke,  or  the  Pope  ?  What  was  anything  to  her  ?  She 
was  going  back  to  her  father  at  Blent.  The  only  ani- 
mation she  displayed  was  in  resenting  the  reminder, 
and  indeed  denying  the  fact,  that  she  had  ever  been 
other  than  absolutely  happy  and  contented  at  Blent. 
Mina  pressed  the  point,  and  Cecily  then  declared  tha^ 
now  at  any  rate  her  conscience  was  at  rest.  She  had 
tried  to  do  what  was  right — at  what  sacrifice  Mina 
knew  ;  the  reception  of  her  offer  Mina  knew.     Now 

[3^3] 


0  " 


Tristram  ^^/^  Blent 

perhaps  Mina  could  sympathize  with  her,  and  could 
understand  the  sort  of  way  in  which  Cousin  Harry  re- 
ceived attempts  to  help  him.  On  this  point  they  drew 
together  again. 

'*  You  must  come  back  to  Merrion,  dear,"  urged 
Cecily. 

Mina,  who  never  meant  to  do  anything  else,  embraced 
her  friend  and  affectionately  consented.  It  is  always 
pleasant  to  do  on  entreaty  what  we  might  be  driven 
to  do  unasked. 

Good-by  had  to  be  said  to  Lady  Evenswood.  That 
lady  was  very  cheerful  about  Harry  ;  she  was,  hardly 
with  any  disguise,  an  admirer  of  his  conduct,  and  said 
that  undoubtedly  he  had  made  a  very  favorable  im- 
pression on  Robert.  She  seemed  to  make  little  of  the 
desperate  condition  of  affairs  as  regarded  Cecily.  She 
was  thinking  of  Harry's  career,  and  that  seemed  to  her 
very  promising.  "  Whatever  he  tries  I  think  he'll  suc- 
ceed in,"  she  said.  That  was  not  enough  for  Mina  ; 
he  must  try  Mina's  things — those  she  had  set  her  heart 
on — before  she  could  be  content.  "  But  you  never 
brought  Cecily  to  see  me,"  Lady  Evenswood  com- 
plained.   "  And  I'm  just  going  away  now." 

That  was  it,  Mina  decided.  Lady  Evenswood  had 
not  seen  Cecily.  She  had  approached  the  Tristram 
puzzle  from  one  side  only,  and  had  perceived  but  one 
aspect  of  it.  She  did  not  understand  that  it  was  com- 
plex and  double-headed  ;  it  was  neither  Harry  nor 
Cecily,  but  Harry  and  Cecily.  Mina  had  been  in  that 
state  of  mind  before  Cecily  came  on  the  scene  ;  it  was 
natural  now  in  Lady  Evenswood.  But  it  rendered  her 
really  useless.  It  was  a  shock  to  find  that,  all  along,  in 
Lady  Evenswood's  mind  Cecily  had  been  a  step  toward 
the  peerage  rather  than  the  peerage  the  first  step 
toward  Cecily.  Mina  wondered  loftily  (but  silently) 
how  woman  could  take  so  sHghting  a  view  of  woman. 

[314] 


A   Decree  of   Banishment 

"  And  Flora  Disney  has  quite  taken  him  up,"  Lady 
Evenswood  pursued.  "  George  tells  me  he's  been  to 
lunch  there  twice.     George  is  a  terrible  gossip." 

"  What  does  Lady  Flora  Disney  want  with  him  ?  " 

"  Well,  my  dear,  are  you  going  to  turn  round  and  say 
you  don't  understand  why  he  interests  women  ?  " 

"  I  don't  see  why  he  should  interest  Lady  Flora." 
Mina  had  already  made  up  her  mind  that  she  hated  that 
sort  of  woman.  It  was  bad  enough  to  have  captured 
Mr  Disney  ;  must  the  insatiate  creature  draw  into  her 
net  Harry  Tristram  also  ? 

"  And  of  course  he's  flattered.  Any  young  man 
would  be." 

"  I  don't  think  he's  improved  since  he  left  Blent." 

"  Country  folks  always  say  that  about  their  young 
men  when  they  come  to  town,"  smiled  Lady  Evens- 
wood.  "  He's  learning  his  world,  my  dear.  And  he 
seems  very  sensible.  He  hasn't  inherited  poor  Addie's 
wildness." 

"  Yes,  he  has.  But  it  only  comes  out  now  and  then. 
When  it  does " 

"  It  won't  come  out  with  Flora,"  Lady  Evenswood 
interrupted  reassuringly.  "  And  at  any  rate,  as  you 
may  suppose,  I'm  going  to  leave  him  to  his  own  de- 
vices. Oh,  I  think  he's  (|uite  right,  but  1  don't  want  to 
be  wrong  myself  again,  that's  all." 

But  another  thing  was  to  happen  before  Mina  went 
back  to  the  valley  of  the  Blent  ;  a  fearful,  delightful 
thing.  An  astonishing  missive  came — a  card  inviting 
her  to  dine  with  ]\Ir  and  Lady  Flora  Disney.  She 
gasped  as  she  read  it.  Had  Lady  Flora  ever  indulged 
in  the  same  expression  of  feeling,  it  would  have  been 
when  she  was  asked  to  send  it.  Gasping  still,  Mina 
telegraphed  for  her  best  frock  and  all  the  jewelled 
tokens  of  affection  which  survived  to  testify  to  Adolf 
Zabriska's  love.     It  was  in  itself  an  infinitely  great  oc- 

[3'5] 


Tristram  ^  Blent 

casion,  destined  always  to  loom  large  in  memory  ;  but 
it  proved  to  have  a  bearing  on  the  Tristram  problem 
too. 

For  Harry  was  there.  He  sat  on  the  hostess's  left  ; 
on  her  other  side  was  handsome  Lord  Hove,  very  re- 
splendent in  full  dress,  starred  and  ribanded.  Several 
of  the  men  were  like  that  ;  there  was  some  function 
later  on,  Mina  learnt  from  an  easy-mannered  youth 
who  sat  by  her  and  seemed  bored  with  the  party.  Dis- 
ney canie  in  late,  in  his  usual  indifferently  fitting  morn- 
ing clothes,  snatching  an  hour  from  the  House,  in  the 
strongest  contrast  to  the  fair  sumptuousness  of  his  wife. 
He  took  a  vacant  chair  two  places  from  Mina  and  nod- 
ded at  her  in  a  friendly  way.  They  were  at  a  round 
table,  and  there  were  only  a  dozen  there.  The  easy- 
mannered  youth  told  her  all  about  them,  including  sev- 
eral things  which  it  is  to  be  hoped  were  not  true  ;  he 
seemed  to  view  them  from  an  altitude  of  good-humored 
contempt.  Mina  discovered  afterward  that  he  was  a 
cousin  of  Lad}^  Flora's,  and  occupied  a  position  in 
Messrs  Coutts's  Bank.     He  chuckled  once,  remarking : 

"  Flora's  talkin'  to  Tristram  all  the  time,  instead  of 
bein'  pleasant  to  Tommy  Hove.  Fact  is,  she  hates 
Tommy,  and  she'd  be  glad  if  the  Chief  would  give  him 
the  boot.  But  the  Chief  doesn't  want  to,  because 
Tommy's  well  in  at  Court  and  the  Chief  isn't." 

"  Why  does  Lady  Flora  hate  Lord  Hove  ?  He's 
very  handsome." 

"  Think  so  ?  Well,  I  see  so  many  fellows  like  that, 
that  Fm  beginnin'  to  hate  'em.  Like  the  '  sweet  girl,' 
don't  you  know  ?  I  hear  the  Chief  thinks  Tristram'll 
train  on." 

"  Do  what  ?  "  asked  Mina  absently,  looking  across  at 
Harry.  Harry  was  quite  lively,  and  deep  in  con- 
versation with  his  hostess. 

"  Well,  thcv  might  put  him  in  the  House,  and  so  on, 

[316] 


A  Decree  of   Banishment 

you  know.  See  that  woman  next  but  three  ?  That's 
Gertrude  Melrose  ;  spends  more  on  clothes  than  any 
woman  in  London,  and  she's  only  got  nine  hundred  a 
year.  Queer  ? "  He  smiled  as  he  consumed  an 
almond. 

"  She  must  get  into  debt,"  said  Mina,  gazing  at  the 
clothes  of  inexplicable  origin. 

"  Gettin'  in  isn't  the  mystery,"  remarked  the  youth. 
"  It's  the  gettin'  out,  Madame — er — Zabriska."  He 
had  taken  a  swift  glance  at  Mina's  card. 

Mina  looked  round.  "  Is  it  in  this  room  they  have 
the  Councils  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  Cabinets  ?  Don't  know.  Downstairs  somewhere, 
I  believe,  anyhow."  He  smothered  a  yawn.  "Queer 
thing,  that  about  Tristram,  you  know.  If  everything 
was  known,  you  know,  I  shouldn't  wonder  if  a  lot  of 
other  fellows  found  themselves " 

He  was  interrupted,  fortunately  perhaps,  in  these 
speculations  by  a  question  from  his  other  neighbor. 
Mina  was  left  alone  for  some  minutes,  and  set  to  work 
to  observe  the  scene.  She  was  tolerably  at  ease  now  ;  a 
man  was  on  each  side  of  her,  and  in  the  end  it  was  the 
women  of  whom  she  was  afraid.  There  would  be  a 
terrible  time  in  the  drawing-room,  but  she  determined 
not  to  think  of  that.  Harry  saw  her  sitting  silent  and 
smiled  across  at  her  while  he  listened  to  Lady  Flora. 
The  smile  seemed  to  come  from  a  great  way  ofT.  The 
longer  she  sat  there  the  more  that  impression  grew  ;  he 
seemed  so  much  and  so  naturally  a  part  of  the  scene  and 
one  of  the  company.  She  was  so  emphatically  not  one 
of  them,  save  by  the  merest  accident  and  for  an  even- 
ing's span.  The  sense  of  difiference  and  distance 
troubled  her.  She  thought  of  Cecily  alone  at  home, 
and  grew  more  troubled  still.  She  felt  absurd  too,  be- 
cause she  had  been  trying  to  help  Harry.  If  that  had 
to  be  done,  she  supposed  Lady  Flora  would  do  it  now. 

[3^7] 


Tristram  of  Blent 

The  idea  was  bitter.  Where  difference  of  class  comes 
in,  women  seem  more  hostile  to  one  another  than  men 
are  to  men  ;  perhaps  this  should  be  considered  in  re- 
lation to  the  franchise  question. 

Through  the  talk  of  the  rest  she  listened  to  Harry 
and  Lady  Flora.  That  Harry  should  hold  his  own  did 
not  surprise  her  ;  it  was  rather  unexpected  that  he 
should  do  it  so  lightly  and  so  urbanely.  Lord  Hove 
tried  to  intervene  once  or  twice,  with  no  success  ; 
capricious  waves  of  sympathy  undulated  across  to  him 
from  Mina.  She  turned  her  head  by  chance,  and  found 
Mr  Disney  silent  too,  and  looking  at  her.  The  next 
moment  he  spoke  to  the  easy-mannered  youth. 

"  Well,  Theo,  what's  the  world  saying  and  doing  ?  " 
"  Same  as  last  year.  Cousin  Robert,"  answered 
Theo    cheerfully.     "  Government's    a    year    older,    of 


course." 


In  an  instant  Mina  was  pleased  ;  she  detected  an  un- 
expected but  pleasant  friendship  between  Mr  Disney 
and  the  youth.  She  credited  Disney  with  more  human- 
ity— the  humor  necessary  she  knew  he  had — and  liked 
him  even  better. 

"  The  drawing-rooms  have  kicked  us  out  already,  I 
iuppose  ?  " 

"  Oh,  yes,  rather.    But  the  Bank's  not  sure." 

"  Good  !  That's  something.  Banks  against  draw- 
ing-rooms for  me,  Madame  Zabriska."  He  brought  her 
into  the  conversation  almost  with  tact  ;  he  must  have 
had  a  strong  wish  to  make  her  comfortable. 

"  That's  right,"  announced  Theo.  "  I  should  say 
you're  all  right  in  the  country  too.  Crops  pretty  good, 
you  know,  and  the  rain's  comin'  down  just  nicely." 

"  Well,  I  ordered  it,"  said  Mr  Disney. 

"  Takin'  all  the  credit  you  can  get,"  observed  Theo. 
"  Like  the  man  who  carved  his  name  on  the  knife  be- 
fore he  stabbed  his  mother-in-law." 

[318] 


A   Decree  of  Banishment 

"  What  did  he  do  that  for  ?  "  cried  Mina.  A  guffaw 
from  Disney  quite  amazed  her. 

Harry  looked  across  with  a  surprised  air  ;  he  seemed 
to  wonder  that  she  should  be  enjoying  herself.  Mina 
was  annoyed,  and  set  herself  to  be  merry  ;  a  glance 
from  Lady  Flora  converted  vexation  into  rage.  She 
turned  back  to  Theo  ;  somehow  Mr  Disney  had  taught 
her  how  to  like  him — often  a  valuable  lesson,  if  people 
would  keep  their  eyes  open  for  it. 

"  Everybody  else  I've  met  has  been  horribly  afraid  of 
Mr  Disney,"  she  said  in  a  half-whisper. 

"  Oh,  you  aren't  in  a  funk  of  a  man  who's  smacked 
your  head  !  " 

That  seemed  a  better  paradox  than  most.  Mina 
nodded  approvingly. 

"  What  does  the  Bank  say  about  Barililand,  Theo  ?  " 
called  Disney.  Lord  Hove  paused  in  the  act  of  drink- 
ing a  glass  of  wine. 

"  Well,  they're  just  wonderin'  who's  goin'  to  do  the 
kickin',"  said  Theo. 

"  And  who's  going  to  take  it  ?  "  Disney  seemed 
much  amused.  Lord  Hove  had  turned  a  Httle  pink. 
Mina  had  a  vague  sense  that  serious  things  were  being 
joked  about.  Harry  had  turned  from  his  hostess  and 
was  listening. 

"  That's  what  it  comes  to,"  concluded  Theo. 

Di.sney  glanced  round,  smiling  grimly.  Everybody 
had  become  silent.  Barililand  had  produced  the  ques- 
tion on  which  Lord  Hove  was  supposed  to  be  restive. 
Disney  laughed  and  looked  at  his  wife.  She  rose 
from  the  table.  Mr  Disney  had  either  learnt  what  he 
wanted  or  had  finished  amusing  himself.  Mina  did 
not  know  which;  no  more,  oddly  enough,  did  Lord 
Hove. 

Mr  Disney  was  by  the  door,  saying  good-by  to  the 
ladies  ;  he  would  not  be  coming  to  the  drawing-room. 

[319] 


Tristram  ^  Blent 

He  stopped  Miiia,  who  went  out  last,  just  before  his 
wife. 

"  We've  done  all  we  could,  Madame  Zabriska,"  he 
said.    "  We  must  leave  him  alone,  eh  ?  " 

"  I'm  afraid  so.    You've  been  very  kind,  Mr  Disney." 

"  Better  as  it  is,  I  fancy.  Now  then,  Flora  !  "  At 
this  peremptory  summons  Lady  Flora  left  Theo,  by 
whom  she  had  halted,  and  followed  Mina  through  the 
door. 

The  dreadful  moment  had  come.  It  justified  Mina's 
fears,  but  not  in  the  way  she  had  expected.  Two  of  the 
women  left  directly  ;  the  other  two  went  ofif  into  a 
corner ;  her  hostess  sat  down  and  talked  to  her.  Lady 
Flora  was  not  distant  and  did  not  make  Mina  feel  an 
outsider.  The  fault  was  the  other  way  ;  she  was  confi- 
dential— and  about  Harry.  She  assumed  an  intimacy 
with  him  equal  or  more  than  equal  to  Mina's  own  ;  she 
even  told  Mina  things  about  him  ;  she  said  "  we " 
thought  him  an  enormous  acquisition,  and  hoped  to 
see  a  great  deal  of  him.  It  was  all  very  kind,  and  Mina, 
as  a  true  friend,  should  have  been  delighted.  As  it  was, 
dolor  grew  upon  her. 

"  And  I  suppose  the  cousin  is  quite ?  "    A  gentle 

motion  of  Lady  Flora's  fan  was  left  to  define  Cecily 
more  exactly,  and  proved  fully  up  to  the  task. 

"  She's  the  most  fascinating  creature  I  ever  saw," 
cried  Mina. 

"  Rescued  out  of  Chelsea,  wasn't  she  ?  "  smiled  Lady 
Flora.  "  Poor  thing  !  One's  sorry  for  her.  When  her 
mourning's  over  we  must  get  her  out.  I  do  hope  she's 
something  like  Mr  Tristram  ?  " 

"  I  think  she's  ever  so  much  nicer  than  Mr  Tristram." 
Mina  would  have  shrunk  from  stating  this  upon  oath. 

"  He  interests  me  enormously,  and  it's  so  seldom  I 
like  Robert's  young  men." 

So  he  was  to  be  Robert's  young  man  too  !   The  thing 

[320] 


A   Decree  of  Banishment 

grew  worse  and  worse.  Almost  she  hated  her  idol  Mr 
Disney.  Personal  jealousy,  and  jealousy  for  Cecily, 
blinded  her  to  his  merits,  much  more  to  the  gracious 
cordiality  which  his  wife  was  now  showing. 

"  Yes,  I'm  sure  we  shall  make  something  of  Harry 
Tristram." 

"  He  doesn't  like  things  done  for  him,"  Mina  de- 
clared. She  meant  to  show  how  very  well  she  knew 
him,  and  spoke  with  an  air  of  authority. 

"  Oh,  of  course  it  won't  look  like  that,  Madame 
Zabriska." 

Now  the  Imp's  efforts  had  looked  like  that — just  like 
it.  She  chafed  under  conscious  inferiority  ;  Lady  Flora 
had  smiled  at  being  thought  to  need  such  a  reminder. 

"  Men  never  see  it  unless  it's  absolutely  crammed 
down  their  throats,"  Lady  Flora  pursued.  ''  They  al- 
ways think  it's  all  themselves,  you  know.  It  would 
be  very  clumsy  to  be  found  out." 

In  perfect  innocence  she  sprinkled  pepper  on  Mina's 
wound.  Able  to  endure  no  more,  the  Imp  declared 
that  she  must  go  back  to  Cecily. 

"  Oh,  poor  girl,  I  quite  forgot  her  !  You're  going 
back  to  Blent  with  her,  I  suppose  ?  Do  come  and  see 
us  when  you're  in  town  again."  Was  there  or  was 
there  not  the  slightest  sigh  as  she  turned  away,  a 
sigh  that  spoke  of  duty  nobly  done?  Even  toward 
Robert's  caprices,  even  to  the  oddest  people,  Lady 
Flora  prided  herself  on  a  becoming  bearing.  And  in 
the  end  this  little  Madame  Zabriska  had  rather  amused 
her  ;  she  was  funny  with  her  airs  of  ownership  about 
Harry  Tristram. 

Well  poor  Mina  understood  !  All  that  the  enemy 
tiiought  was  legible  to  her  ;  all  the  misery  that  keen 
perceptions  can  sometimes  bring  was  sure  to  be  hers. 
She  had  spent  the  most  notable  evening  of  her  life,  and 
she  got  into  her  cab  a  miserable  woman. 

[321] 


Tristram  of  Blent 

Theo  was  on  the  doorstep.  "  Escapin',"  he  confided 
to  her  wliile  he  handed  her  in.  "  Worst  of  these  parties 
generally  is  that  there's  nobody  amiisin',''  he  observed 
as  he  did  her  this  service.  "  Aren't  you  rather  glad 
you  haven't  got  to  take  on  Flora's  job,  Madame 
Zabriska  ?  " 

No,  at  the  moment  at  least  Mina  did  not  rejoice  on 
that  account. 

When  she  reached  home,  there  was  nothing  to 
change  her  mood.  She  found  Cecily  in  a  melancholy  so 
sympathetic  as  to  invite  an  immediate  outpouring  of 
the  heart.  Cecily  was  beautiful  that  evening,  in  her 
black  frock,  with  her  fair  hair,  her  pale  face,  and  her 
eyes  full  of  tragedy.  She  had  been  writing,  it  appeared  ; 
ink  and  paper  were  on  the  table.  She  was  very  quiet, 
but,  Mina  thought,  with  the  stillness  that  follows  a 
storm.  Unasked,  the  Imp  sketched  the  dinner  party, 
especially  Harry's  share  in  it.  Her  despair  was  laced 
with  vitriol  and  she  avoided  a  kind  word  about  any- 
body. This  was  blank  ingratitude  to  Mr  Disney,  and 
to  Theo  too  ;  but  our  friends  can  seldom  escape  from 
paying  for  our  misfortunes. 

"  Those  people  have  got  hold  of  him.  We've  lost 
him.    That's  the  end  of  it,"  she  cried. 

Cecily  had  nothing  to  say  ;  she  leant  back  in  a  limp 
forlornness  while  Mina  expatiated  on  this  doleful  text. 
There  came  a  luxury  into  the  Imp's  woe  as  she  realized 
for  herself  and  her  auditor  the  extreme  sorrows  of  the 
situation  ;  she  forgot  entirely  that  there  was  not  and 
never  had  been  any  reason  why  Harry  should  be  any- 
thing in  particular  to  her  at  least.  She  observed  that  of 
course  she  was  glad  for  his  sake  ;  this  time-honored 
imselfishness  won  no  assent  from  Cecily.  Lacking  the 
reinforcement  of  discussion,  the  stream  of  Mina's 
lamentation  began  to  run  dry. 

"  Oh,  it's  no  use  talking,"  she  ended.    "  There  it  is  !  " 


A   Decree  of   Banishment 

"  I'm  going  back  to  Blent  to-morrow,"  said  Cecily 
suddenly. 

It  was  no  more  than  Mina  had  expected.  "  Yes,  we 
may  as  well,"  she  assented  dismally. 

Cecily  rose  and  began  to  walk  about.  Her  air  caught 
Mina's  attention  again  ;  on  this,  the  evening  before  she 
returned  to  Blent,  it  had  something  of  that  suppressed 
passion  which  had  marked  her  manner  on  the  night 
when  she  determined  to  leave  it.  She  came  to  a  stand 
opposite  Mina. 

"  I've  made  up  my  mind.  From  this  moment,  Mina, 
Blent  is  mine.  Up  to  now  I've  held  it  for  Harry.  Now 
it's  mine.  I  shall  go  back  and  begin  everything  there 
to-morrow." 

Mina  felt  the  tragedy  ;  the  inevitable  was  being 
accepted. 

"  You  see  I've  been  writing?  " 

"  Yes,  Cecily."  After  all  it  looked  as  though  the  Imp 
were  not  to  be  cheated  of  her  sensation. 

"  I've  written  to  Cousin  Harry.  I've  told  him  what  I 
mean  to  do.  He  must  think  it  right  ;  it's  the  only 
thing  he's  left  me  to  do.  But  I've  told  him  I  can  do  it 
only  on  one  condition.  He'll  have  my  letter  to- 
morrow." 

"  On  one  condition  ?    What  ?  " 

"  I  said  to  him  that  he  gave  me  Blent  because  I  was 
there,  because  he  saw  me  there  in  the  middle  of  it  all. 
That's  true.  If  I'd  stayed  here,  would  he  ever  have 
told  his  secret  ?  Never  !  He  wouldn't  so  much  as 
have  come  to  see  me  ;  he'd  never  have  thought  of  me, 
he'd  have  forgotten  all  about  me.  It  was  seeing  me 
there." 

"  Well,  seeing  you,  anyhow." 

"  Seeing  me  there — there  at  Blent,"  she  insisted,  now 
almost  angrily.  "  So  he'll  understand  what  I  mean  by 
the  thing  I've  asked  of  him.    And  he  must  obey."    Her 

[323] 


Tristram  ^  Blent 

voice  became  imperious.  *'  I've  told  him  that  I'm  going 
back,  going  to  stay  .there,  and  hve  there,  but  that  he 
must  never,  never  come  there." 

Mina  started,  her  eyes  wide-open  in  surprise  at  this 
heroic  measure. 

"  I  must  never  see  him — if  I  can  help  it.  Anyhow  I 
must  never  see  him  at  Blent.  That's  the  only  way  I 
can  endure  it." 

"  Never  see  him  !  Never  have  him  at  Blent  !  "  Mina 
was  trying  to  sort  out  the  state  of  things  which  would 
result.  It  was  pretty  plain  what  had  happened  ;  Cecily 
had  felt  the  need  of  doing  something  ;  here  it  was. 
Mina's  sympathies,  quick  to  move,  darted  out  to  Harry. 
"  Think  what  it'll  mean  to  him  never  to  see  Blent  {" 
she  cried. 

"  To  him  ?  Nothing,  nothing  !  Why,  you  yourself 
came  home  just  now  saying  that  we  were  nothing  to 
him  !  Blent's  nothing  to  him  now.  It's  for  my  own 
sake  that  I've  said  he  mustn't  come." 

"  You've  begged  him  not  to  come  ?  " 

"  I've  told  him  not  to  come,"  said  Cecily  haughtily. 
"  If  it's  his,  let  him  take  it.  If  it's  mine,  I  can  choose 
who  shall  come  there.  Don't  you  see,  don't  you  see  ? 
How  can  I  ever  cheat  myself  into  thinking  it's  mine  by 
right,  if  I  see  Harry  there  ?  "  She  paused  a  moment. 
"  And  if  you'd  thrown  yourself  at  a  man's  head,  and 
he'd  refused  you,  would  you  want  to  have  him  about  ?  " 

"  N — no,"  said  Mina,  but  rather  hesitatingly  ;  un- 
comfortable situations  are  to  some  natures  better  than 
no  situations  at  all.  "  No,  of  course  not,"  she  added 
more  confidently,  after  she  had  spent  a  moment  in 
bracing  up  her  sense  of  what  was  seemly. 

"  So  I've  ended  it,  I've  ended  everything.  I  posted 
my  letter  just  before  you  came  in,  and  he'll  get  it  to- 
morrow. And  now,  Mina,  I'm  going  back  to  Blent." 
She  threw  herself  into  an  arm-chair,  leaning  back  in  a 

[324] 


A   Decree  of  Banishment 

sudden  weariness  after  the  excited  emotion  with  which 
she  had  declared  her  resolve.  Mina  sat  on  the  other 
side  of  the  table  looking  at  her,  and  after  a  moment's 
looking  suddenly  began  to  sob. 

"  It's  too  miserable,"  she  declared  in  wrathful  woe. 
"  Why  couldn't  he  have  said  nothing  about  it  and  just 
married  you  ?  Oh,  I  hate  it  all,  because  I  love  you 
both.  I  know  people  think  I'm  in  love  with  him,  but 
I'm  not.  It's  both  of  you,  it's  the  whole  thing  ;  and 
now  it  never,  never  can  go  straight.  If  he  got  Blent 
back  now  by  a  miracle,  it  would  be  just  as  bad." 

"  Worse,"  said  Cecily,  "  if  you  mean  that  then  he 
might " 

"  Yes,  worse,"  moaned  Mina.  "  It's  hopeless  every 
way.    And  I  believe  he's  fond  of  you." 

A  scornful  smile  was  Cecily's  only  but  sufficient 
answer. 

"  And  you  love  him  !  "  Mina's  sorrow  made  her  for- 
get all  fear.  She  said  in  this  moment  what  she  had 
never  before  dared  to  say.  "  Oh,  of  course  you  do,  or 
you'd  never  have  told  him  he  mustn't  come  to  Blent. 
But  he  won't  understand  that — and  it  would  make  no 
difference  if  he  did,  I  suppose  !  Oh,  you  Tristrams  !  " 
Again  her  old  despairing  cry  of  revolt  and  bewilder- 
ment was  wrung  from  her  by  the  ways  of  the  family 
with  whose  fate  she  had  become  so  concerned.  South- 
end had  felt  much  the  same  thing  over  the  matter  of 
Harry  and  the  viscounty.  "  So  it  all  ends,  it  all  ends — 
and  we've  got  to  go  back  to  Blent  !  " 

"  Yes,  I  love  him,"  said  Cecily.  "  That  evening  in 
the  Long  Gallery — the  evening  when  he  gave  me 
Blent — do  you  know  what  I  thought  ?  "  She  spoke 
low  and  quickly,  lying  back  quite  still  in  the  attitude 
that  Addie  Tristram  had  once  made  her  owa,  "  { 
watched  him,  and  I  saw  that  he  had  something  to  say, 
and  yet  wouldn't  say  it.    I  saw  he  was  struggling.    And 

[325] 


Tristram   ^  Blent 

1  watched,  how  I  watched  !  He  was  engaged  to  Janie 
Iver — he  had  told  me  that.  But  he  didn't  love  her — 
yes,  he  told  me  that  too.  But  there  was  something  else. 
I  saw  it.  I  had  come  to  love  him  then  already — oh,  I 
think  as  soon  as  I  saw  him  at  Blent.  And  I  waited  for 
it.    Did  you  ever  do  that,  Mina — do  you  remember  ?  " 

Mina  was  silent  ;  her  memories  gave  her  no  such 
thing  as  that.  Her  sobs  had  ceased  ;  she  sat  listening- 
in  tense  excitement  to  the  history  of  the  scene  that  she 
had  descried,  dim  and  far  ofif,  from  the  terrace  of  Mer- 
rion  on  the  hill. 

"  I  waited,  waited.  I  couldn't  believe — Ah,  yes,  but 
I  did  believe.  I  thought  he  felt  bound  in  honor  and 
I  hoped — yes,  I  hoped — he  would  break  his  word  and 
throw  away  his  honor.  I  saw  it  coming,  and  my  heart 
seemed  to  burst  as  I  waited  for  it.  You'd  know,  if  it 
had  ever  happened  to  you  like  that.  And  at  last  I  saw 
he  would  speak — I  saw  he  must  speak.  He  came  and 
stood  by  me.  Suddenly  he  cried,  '  I  can't  do  it.'  Then 
.xiy  heart  leapt,  because  I  thought  he  meant  he  couldn't 
n:arry  Janie  Iver.  I  looked  up  at  him  and  I  suppose  I 
said  something.  He  caught  me  by  the  arm.  I  thought 
he  was  going  to  kiss  me,  Mina.  And  then— then  he 
told  me  that  Blent  was  mine — not  himself  but  Blent — 
that  I  was  Lady  Tristram,  and  he — Harry  Nothing — 
he  said,  Harry  Nothing-at-all." 

"  Oh,  if  you'd  tell  him  that  !  "  cried  Mina. 

"  Tell  him  !  "  She  smiled  in  superb  scorn.  "  I'd  die 
before  I'd  tell  him.  I  could  go  and  oiler  myself  to  him 
just  because  he  didn't  know.  And  he'll  never  know 
now.  Only  now  you  can  understand  that  Blent  is — 
Ah,  that  it's  all  bitterness  to  me !  And  you  know  now 
why  he  must  never  come.  Yes,  as  you  say,  it  all  ends 
now." 

Mina  came  and  knelt  down  by  her,  caressing  her 
hand.  Cecily  shivered  a  little  and  moved  with  a  vague 
air  of  discomfort. 

[326] 


A   Decree   of   Banishment 

'"  But  -^  believe  he  cares  for  you,"  Mina  whispered. 

"  He  might  brive  cared  for  me  perhaps.  But  Blent's 
between." 

Blent  was  between.  The  difficulty  seemed  insuper- 
able— at  least  where  you  were  dealing  with  Tristrams. 
Mina  could  not  but  acknowledge  that.  For  Harry, 
having  nothing  to  give,  would  take  nothing.  And 
Cecily,  having  much,  was  thereby  debarred  from  giving 
anything.  And  if  that  miracle  of  which  ]\lina  had 
spoken  came  about,  the  parts  would  be  exchanged 
but  the  position  would  be  no  more  hopeful.  The 
Tristrams  not  only  brought  about  difficult  situations — 
as  Addie  had  done  here — but  by  being  w'hat  they  were 
they  insured  that  the  difficulties  should  not  be  over- 
come. Yet  at  this  moment  Mina  could  not  cry,  "  Oh. 
you  Tristrams  ! "  any  more.  Her  sorrow  was  too 
great  and  Cecily  too  beautiful.  She  seemed  again  to 
see  Addie,  and  neither  she  nor  anybody  else  could 
have  been  hard  to  Addie.  She  covered  Cecily's  hands 
with  kisses  as  she  knelt  by  her  side. 

"  Yes,  this  is  the  end."'  said  Cecily.  "  Now,  Mina, 
for  Blent  and  her  ladyship  !  "  She  gave  a  bitter  little 
laugh.    "  And  good-by  to  Cousin  Harry  !  " 

"  Oh,  Cecily !  " 

"  No,  he  shall  never  come  to  Blent." 

How  would  Harry  take  this  decree  of  banishment  ? 
Mina  looked  up  into  her  friend's  eyes,  wondering.  But 
(lid  not  the  dinner-party  at  Mr  Disney's  answer  that? 


[327] 


XXIV 

After  the  End  of  All 

'Y    Dear    Cousin — I    shall    faithfully    obey 
your  commands — Yours  very  truly,  H.  A.  F. 

, Tristram."  And  below — very  formally — 
The  Lady  Tristram  of  Blent." 
To  write  it  took  him  no  more  than  a  moment — even 
though  he  wrote  first,  "  The  commands  of  the  Head  of 
the  House,"  and  destroyed  that,  ashamed  of  the  sting- 
of  malice  in  it.  To  send  it  to  the  post  was  the  work  of 
another  moment.  The  third  found  him  back  at  his 
Blinkhampton  plans  and  elevations,  Cecily's  letter  lying 
neglected  on  the  table  by  him.  After  half  an  hour's 
work  he  stopped  suddenly,  reached  for  the  letter,  tore 
it  into  small  fragments,  and  flung  the  scraps  into  his 
waste-paper  basket.  Just  about  the  same  time  Cecily 
and  Mina  were  getting  into  the  train  to  return  to 
Blent. 

This  returning  to  Blent  was  epidemic — not  so  strange 
perhaps,  since  mid-August  was  come,  and  only  the 
people  who  had  to  stayed  in  town.  Harry  met  Duplay 
over  at  Blinkhampton  ;  Duplay  was  to  join  his  niece 
at  Merrion  in  about  ten  days.  He  ran  against  Iver  in 
the  street  ;  Iver  was  off  to  Fairholme  by  the  afternoon 
train  ;  Mr  Neeld,  he  mentioned,  was  coming  to  stay 
with  him  for  a  couple  of  weeks  on  Friday.  Even  South- 
end— whom  Harry  encountered  in  Whitehall,  very  hot 
and  exhausted — cursed  London  and  talked  of  a  run 
down  to  Iver's.  Blentmouth,  Fairholme,  Iver's,  Mer- 
rion— they  all  meant  Blent.  Cecily  had  gone,  and 
Mina  ;  the  rest  were  going  there — everybodv  except 

[328] 


After   the   End  of   All 

the  man  who  three  months  ago  had  looked  to  spend  his 
Hfe  there  as  its  master. 

And  business  will  grow  slack  when  autumn  arrives  : 
it  is  increasingly  difficult  for  a  man  to  bury  hiniself  in 
deeds,  or  plans,  or  elevations,  or  calculations,  when 
everybody  writes  that  he  is  taking  his  vacation,  and 
that  the  matter  shall  have  immediate  attention  on  his 
return.  Harry  grew  terribly  tired  of  this  polite  formula. 
He  wanted  to  build  Blinkhampton  out  of  hand,  in  the 
months  of  August  and  September.  The  work  would 
have  done  him  good  service.  He  was  seeking  a 
narcotic. 

For  he  was  in  pain.  It  came  on  about  a  week  after 
he  had  sent  his  curt  acknowledgment  of  Cecily's  letter, 
laying  hold  of  him,  he  told  himself,  just  because  he 
had  nothing  to  do,  because  everybody  was  taking  his 
holiday,  and  Blinkhampton  would  not  get  itself 
bought,  and  sold,  and  contracted  for,  and  planned,  and 
laid  out,  and  built.  The  politicians  were  at  it  still,  for 
two  more  hot,  weary,  sultry  weeks,  but  they  were  of 
little  use.  Lady  Flora  had  fled  to  Scotland,  Disney 
was  smothered  in  arrears  of  work  which  must  be  made 
up  before  he  got  a  rest.  London  was  full  of  strange 
faces  and  outlandish  folk.  "  I  must  take  a  holiday  my- 
self,"' said  Harry  in  a  moment  of  seeming  inspiration. 
Where,  where,  where?  He  suffered  under  the  sen- 
sation of  having  nowhere  whither  he  would  naturally 
go,  no  home,  no  ])lace  to  which  he  could  return  as  to 
his  own.  He  found  himself  wishing  that  he  had  not 
torn  up  Cecily's  letter  ;  he  remembered  its  general 
effect  so  well  that  he  wanted  to  read  the  very  words 
again,  in  the  secret  hope  that  they  would  modify  and 
soften  his  memory.  His  own  answer  met  and  destroyed 
the  hope  ;  he  knew  that  he  would  have  responded  to 
anything  friendly,  had  it  been  there. 

Yet  what  did  the  letter  mean  ?     He  interpreted  it 

[329] 


Tristram   /^/^Blent 

as  Cecily  had  declared  he  would.  When  he  held  Blent, 
he  held  it  in  peace  of  mind,  though  in  violation  of 
law,  till  one  came  who  reproached  him  in  a  living 
body  and  with  speaking  eyes  ;  faced  with  that,  he  could 
find  no  comfort  in  Blent.  Cecily  violated  no  law,  but 
she  violated  nature,  the  natural  right  in  him.  To  her 
then  his  presence  would  be  intolerable,  and  she  could 
not  find  the  desperate  refuge  that  he  had  chosen.  Her 
only  remedy  was  to  forbid  him  the  place.  Her  instinct 
drove  her  to  that,  and  the  instinct,  so  well  understood 
by  him,  so  well  known,  was  to  him  reason  enough. 
She  could  not  feci  mistress  of  Blent  while  he  was 
there. 

Indeed  he  had  not  meant  to  go.  He  had  told  Iver 
that  in  perfect  good  faith.  It  would  have  been  in  bad 
taste  for  him  to  think  of  going — of  going  anything  like 
so  soon  as  this.  Whence  then  came  his  new  feeUng 
of  desolation  and  of  hurt  ?  It  was  partly  that  he  was 
forbidden  to  go.  It  was  hard  to  realize  that  he  could 
see  Blent  now  only  by  another's  will  or  sufferance. 
It  was  even  more  that  now  it  was  no  question  of 
refraining  from  going  at  once,  in  order  to  go  hereafter 
with  a  better  grace.  He  awoke  to  the  idea  that  he 
was  never  to  go,  and  in  the  same  moment  to  the  truth 
that  he  had  always  imagine^  himself  going  again,  that 
Ijlent  had  always  held  a  place  in  his  picture  of  the 
future,  that  whatever  he  was  doing  or  achieving  or 
winning,  there  it  was  in  the  background.  Now  it  was 
there  no  more.  He  could  almost  say  with  Mina  and 
with  Cecily  herself,  "  This  is  the  end  of  it." 

What  then  of  the  impressions  Mina  had  gathered 
from  Mr  Disney's  dinner-party  ?  It  can  only  be  said 
that  when  people  of  impressionable  natures  study 
others  of  like  temperament  they  should  not  generalize 
from  their  conduct  at  parties.  In  society  dinners  are 
eaten  in  disguise,  sometimes  intentional,  sometimes  un- 

[330] 


After  the   End  of   All 

conscious,  but  as  a  rule  quite  impenetrable.  If  Harry's 
had  been  unconscious,  if  the  mood  had  played  the  man, 
the  deception  was  the  more  complete. 

He  went  to  see  Lady  Evenswood  one  day  ;  she  had 
sent  to  express  her  desire  for  a  talk  before  she  fled  to 
the  country.  She  had  much  that  was  pleasant  to  say, 
much  of  the  prospects  of  his  success,  of  his  "  training- 
on,"  as  easy-mannered  Theo  had  put  it  to  Mina 
Zabriska. 

"  And  if  you  do,  you'll  be  able  to  think  now  that 
you've  done  it  all  ofif  your  own  bat,"  she  ended. 

"  You've  found  out  my  weaknesses,  I  see,"  he 
laughed. 

"  Oh,  I  doubt  if  there's  any  such  thing  as  an  absolute 
strength  or  an  absolute  weakness.  They're  relative. 
What's  an  advantage  in  one  thing  is  a  disadvantage  in 
another." 

"  I  understand,"  he  smiled.  "  My  confounded  con- 
ceit may  help  me  on  in  the  world,  but  it  doesn't  make 
me  a  grateful  friend  or  a  pleasant  companion  ?  " 

"  I  believe  George  Southend  agrees  as  far  as  the 
grateful  friend  part  of  it  is  concerned.  And  I'm  told 
Lord  Hove  does  as  to  the  rest.  But  then  it  was  only 
Flora  Disney  herself  who  said  so." 

"  And  what  do  you  say  ?  " 

"  Oh,  pride's  tolerable  in  anybody  except  a  lover," 
she  declared. 

"  Well,  I've  known  lovers  too  humble.  I  told  one 
so  once  ;  he  believed  me,  went  in,  and  won." 

"  You  gave  him  courage,  not  pride,  Mr  Tristram." 

"  Perhaps  that's  true.  He's  very  likely  got  the 
pride  by  now."  He  smiled  at  his  thoughts  of  Bob 
Broadley. 

"  And  you've  settled  down  in  the  new  groove  ?  "  she 
asked. 

He  hesitated  a  momertt.     "  Oh,  nearly.      Possibly 

[331] 


Tristram  ^  Blent 

there's  still  a  touch  of  the  '  Desdichado,'  about  me. 
His  would  be  the  only  shield  I  could  carry,  you  see." 

"  Stop  !  Well,  I  forgive  you.  You're  not  often  bit- 
ter about  that.  But  you're  very  bitter  about  some- 
thing, Mr  Tristram." 

"  I  want  to  work,  and  nobody  will  in  August.  You 
can't  get  the  better  of  your  enemies  if  they're  with 
their  families  at  Margate  or  in  the  Engadine/' 

"  Oh,  go  down  and  stay  at  Blent.  No,  I'm  serious. 
You  say  you're  proud.  There's  a  good  way  of  showing 
good  pride.  Go  and  stay  in  the  very  house.  If  you  do 
that.  I  shall  think  well  of  you — and  even  better  than  I 
think  now  of  the  prospects." 

"  I've  not  been  invited." 

"  Poor  girl,  she's  afraid  to  invite  you  !  Write  and 
say  you're  coming." 

"  She'd  go  away.  Yes,  she  would.  She  consents  to 
live  there  only  on  condition  that  I  never  come.  She's 
told  me  so." 

"  I'm  too  old  a  woman  to  know  your  family  !  You 
upset  the  wisdom  of  ages,  and  I  haven't  time  to  learn 
anything  new." 

"  I'm  not  the  least  surprised.  If  I  were  in  her  place, 
I  should  hate  to  have  her  there.". 

"  Nonsense.    In  a  month  or  two " 

"  If  anything's  certain,  it's  that  I  shall  never  go  to 
Blent  as  long  as  mv  cousin  owns  it." 


'& 


"  I  call  it  downright  wicked." 

"  We  share  the  crime,  she  and  I.  She  lays  down  the 
law,  I  willingly  obey." 

"  Willingly  '?  " 

"  My  reason  is  convinced.  Maybe  I'm  a  little  home- 
sick. But  your  month  or  two  will  serve  the  purpose 
there." 

"  There's  a  great  deal  more  in  this  than  you're  telling 
me,  Mr  Tristram." 

[332] 


After   the  End   of  All 

"  Put  everything  you  can  imagine  into  it,  and  the  re- 
sult's the  same." 

She  sighed  and  sat  for  a  moment  in  pensive  silence. 
Harry  seemed  to  ponder  too. 

"  I'm  going  to  think  of  nothing  but  my  work,"  he 
announced. 

"  So  many  young  men  in  their  early  twenties  suc- 
ceed in  that  !  "  she  murmured  mockingly. 

"  Don't  those  who  succeed  in  anything  succeed  in 
that  ?  " 

"  Not  all,  happily — and  none  would  if  they  were  your 
mother's  sons.  My  dear  boy,  just  open  a  window  in 
you  anywhere — I  know  you  keep  them  shut  when  you 
can — but  just  open  even  a  chink,  and  Addic  peeps  out 
directly  !  Which  means  great  success  or  great  failure, 
Harry — and  other  things  on  the  same  scale,  I  fancy. 
Thank  goodness — oh,  yes,  saving  your  presence,  really 
thank  goodness — I'm  not  like  that  myself  !  " 

"  Shall  I  prove  you  wrong  ?  " 

"  I'm  safe.  I  can't  live  to  see  it.  And  you  couldn't 
prove  me  wrong  without  opening  all  the  windows." 

"  And  that  I  shouldn't  do,  even  to  you  ?  " 

"  Do  you  ever  do  it  to  yourself  ?  " 

"  Perhaps  not,"  he  laughed.  "  But  once  a  storm  blew 
them  all  in.  Lady  Evenswood,  and  left  me  without  any 
screen,  and  without  defences." 

"  Have  another  storm  then,"  she  counselled.  She 
laid  a  hand  on  his  arm.    "  Go  to  Blent." 

"  As  things  stand,  I  can  never  go  to  Blent,  I  can 
go  only  to — Blinkhampton." 

"  What  does  little  Mina  Zabriska  say  to  that  ?  " 

"  Oh,  everything  that  comes  into  her  head,  I  sup- 
pose, and  very  volubly." 

"  I  like  her,"  said  the  old  lady  with  emphasis. 

"  Is  there  such  a  thing  as  an  absolute  liking,  Lady 
Evenswood  ?    What's  pleasant  at  one  lime  is  abomi- 

[333J 


Tristram   of  Blent 

liable  at  another.     And  I've  known  Madame  Zabriska 
at  the  other  time." 

"  You  were  probably  at  the  other  time  yourself." 
"  I  thought  we  should  agree  about  the  relativity  !  " 
"  There  may  always  be  a  substratum  of  friendship," 
she  argued.  "  You'll  say  it's  sometimes  very  sub  ! 
Ah,  well,  you're  human  in  the  end.  You're  absolutely 
forgetting  Blent — and  you  spend  your  time  with  an 
old  woman  because  she  can  talk  to  you  about  it  !  Go 
away  and  arrange  your  life,  and  come  back  and  tell  me 
all  about  it.  And  if  you're  discontented  with  life,  re- 
member that  you  too  will  reach  the  stage  of  being  just 
told  about  it  some  day." 

Things  will  come  home  to  a  man  at  last,  strive  he 
never  so  desperately  against  them — if  the  things  are 
true  and  the  man  ever  honest  with  himself.  It  was 
one  night,  a  little  while  after  this  conversation,  that  the 
truth  came  to  Harry  Tristram  and  found  acceptance  or 
at  least  surrender.  His  mind  had  wandered  back  to 
that  scene  in  the  Long  Gallery,  and  he  had  fallen  to 
questioning  about  his  own  action.  There  was  a  new- 
light  on  it,  and  the  new  light  showed  him  truth.  "  I 
must  face  it  ;  it's  not  Blent,"  he  said  aloud.  If  it  were 
Blent,  it  was  now  Blent  only  as  a  scene,  a  frame,  a 
background.  When  he  pictured  Blent,  Cecily  was 
there  ;  if  he  thought  of  her  elsewhere,  the  picture  of 
Blent  vanished.  He  was  in  love  with  her  then  ;  and 
what  was  the  quality  that  Lady  Evenswood  had  praised 
in  a  lover  ?  Let  him  cultivate  it  how  he  would — and 
the  culture  would  be  difficult — yet  it  would  not  serve 
here.  If  he  went  to  Blent  against  Cecily's  commands 
and  his  own  promise,  he  could  meet  with  nothing  but 
a  rebufif.  Yes,  he  was  in  love  ;  and  he  recognized  the 
impasse  as  fully  as  Mina  herself,  although  with  more 
self-restraint.  But  he  was  glad  to  know  the  truth  ;  it 
strengthened  him,  and  it  freed  him  from  a  scorn  of 

[334] 


After   the   End  of   All 

himself  with  which  he  had  become  afflicted.  It  was 
intolerable  that  a  man  should  be  love-sick  for  a  house  ; 
it  was  some  solace  to  find  that  the  house,  in  order  to 
hold  his  affections,  must  hold  a  woman  too. 

"  Now  I  know  where  I  am,"  said  Harry.  He  knew 
what  he  had  to  meet  now  ;  he  thought  he  knew  how  he 
could  treat  himself.  He  went  down  to  Blinkhampton 
the  next  morning,  harried  his  builder  out  of  a  holiday 
expedition,  and  got  a  useful  bit  of  work  in  hand.  It 
was,  he  supposed,  inevitable  that  Cecily  should  journey 
with  him  in  the  spirit  to  Blinkhampton  ;  he  flattered 
himself  that  she  got  very  little  chance  while  he  was 
there.  She  was  the  enemy,  he  declared,  with  a  half- 
peevish  half-humorous  smile.  It  was  not  altogether 
without  amusement  to  invent  all  manner  of  devices  and 
all  sorts  of  occupations  to  evade  and  elude  her.  He 
ventured  to  declare — following  the  precedents — that 
she  had  treated  him  shamefully.  That  broke  down. 
Candor  insisted  once  again  on  his  admitting  that  he 
himself  would  have  done  exactly  the  same  thing.  It 
never  occurred  to  him  to  regret,  even  for  a  moment,  that 
he  had  not  taken  her  at  her  word,  and  had  not  accepted 
her  ofifcr.  That  would  have  been  to  spoil  his  dream,  not 
to  realize  it.  He  asked  perfection  or  nothing,  being  still 
unhealed  of  that  presumptuous  way  of  his,  which  bade 
the  world  go  hang  if  it  would  not  give  him  exactly  what 
he  chose.  The  Tristram  motto  was  still,  "  No  com- 
promise !  " 

An  unexpected  ally  came  to  his  assistance.  He  re- 
ceived a  sudden  summons  from  Mr  Disney.  He  found 
him  at  work,  rather  weary  and  dishevelled.  He  let 
Harry  in  at  once,  but  kept  him  waiting  while  he  trans- 
acted some  other  business.  Here  was  the  place  to  see 
him,  not  in  a  drawing-room  ;  his  brusque  words  and 
quick  decisions  enabled  him  to  do  two  men's  work.  He 
turned  to  Harry  and  said  without  preface  : 

[335] 


Tristram  of  Blent 

"  We're  going  to  arbitrate  this  Barililand  question, 
on  behalf  of  the  Company,  you  know,  as  well  as  our- 
selves. Another  instance  of  my  weakness  !  Lord 
Murchison's  going  over  for  us.  He  starts  in  a  fort- 
night. He  asked  me  to  recommend  him  a  secretary. 
Will  you  go  ?  " 

Here  was  help  in  avoiding  Cecily.  But  what  about 
Blinkhampton  ?     Harry  hesitated  a  moment. 

"  I  should  like  it,  but  I've  contracted  certain  obliga- 
tions of  a  business  kind  at  home,"  he  said. 

"  Well,  if  you're  bound,  keep  your  word  and  do  the 
work.  If  you  find  you're  not,  I  should  advise  you  to 
take  this.  It's  a  good  beginning.  This  is  Tuesday. 
Tell  me  on  Saturday.  Good-by."  He  rang  a  hand-bell 
on  the  table,  and,  as  his  secretary  entered,  said,  "  The 
Canadian  papers,  please." 

"  I'm  very  grateful  to  you,  anyhow." 

"  That's  all  right,  Tristram.    Good-by." 

There  was  no  doubt  what  would  be  the  practical  way 
of  showing  gratitude.    Harry  went  out. 

He  left  Mr  Disney's  presence  determined  to  accept 
the  ofifer  if  Iver  could  spare  his  services  for  the  time. 
The  determining  cause  was  still  Blent,  or  his  cousin 
at  Blent.  Blinkhampton  was  not  far  enough  away  ;  it 
rather  threw  him  with  people  who  belonged  to  the  old 
life  than  parted  him  from  them.  He  was  weak  him- 
self too  ;  while  the  people  were  at  hand,  he  would  seek 
them,  as  he  had  sought  Lady  Evenswood.  At  the 
Arbitration  he  would  be  far  off,  beyond  the  narrow 
seas  and  among  folk  who,  recognizing  the  peculiarity 
of  his  position,  would  make  a  point  of  not  mentioning 
Blent  or  speaking  of  anybody  connected  with  it.  It 
was  from  this  point  of  view  that  he  was  inclined  tow- 
ard the  offer,  and  he  did  not  disguise  it  from  him- 
self ;  but  for  it  he  would  rather  have  gone  on  with 
Blinkhampton,  perhaps  because  he  had  a  free  hand 


After  the  End  of  All 

there,  while  he  could  go  to  the  Arbitration  only  as  a 
subordinate.  Blent  apart,  the  offer  was  valuable  to  him 
as  a  sign  of  Disney's  appreciation  rather  than  on  its 
own  account. 

He  went  home  and  wrote  to  Iver.  The  letter  weighed 
all  considerations  save  the  one  which  really  weighed 
with  him  ;  he  put  himself  fairly  in  Iver's  hands  but  did 
not  conceal  his  own  wish  ;  he  knew  that  if  Iver  were 
against  the  idea  on  solid  business  grounds,  he  would 
not  be  affected  by  Harry's  personal  preference.  But 
the  business  reasons,  when  examined,  did  not  seem  very 
serious,  and  Harry  thought  that  he  would  get  leave  to 
go.  He  rose  from  his  writing  with  a  long  sigh.  If  he 
received  the  answer  he  expected,  he  was  at  the  parting 
of  the  ways  ;  and  he  had  chosen  the  path  that  led  di- 
rectly and  finally  away  from  Blent. 

An  evening  paper  was  brought  to  him.  A  tremen- 
dous headline  caught  his  notice.  "  Resignation  of  Lord 
Hove !  He  will  not  arbitrate  aliout  Barililand.  Will 
the  Government  break  up  ?  "  Probably  not,  thought 
Harry  ;  and  it  was  odd  to  reflect  that,  if  Lord  Hove 
had  got  his  way,  he  would  have  lost  his  heroic  remedy. 
So  great  things  and  small  touch  and  intersect  one 
another.  Perliaps  Theo  (who  could  now  settle  that 
question  about  the  kicking  with  his  friends)  would 
maintain  that  Flora  Disney  had  talked  too  much  to 
Harry  at  dinner,  instead  of  taking  all  pains  to  soothe 
Lord  Hove  ! 

It  was  his  last  struggle  ;  he  had  no  doubt  that  he 
could  win,  but  the  fight  was  very  fierce.  Impatient  of 
his  quiet  rooms,  he  went  out  into  the  crowded  streets. 
At  first  he  found  himself  envying  everybody  he  passed 
— the  cabman  on  his  box,  the  rough  young  fellows  es- 
caped from  the  factory,  the  man  who  sold  matches  and 
had  no  cares  beyond  food  and  a  bed.  But  presently 
he  forgot  them  all  and  walked  among  shadows.     He 

^337] 


Tristram  (9/*Blent 

was  at  Blent  in  spirit,  sometimes  with  Addie  Tristram, 
sometimes  with  Cecily.  His  imagination  undid  what 
his  hand  had  done  ;  he  was  smiling  again  at  the  efforts 
of  Duplay  to  frighten  or  to  displace  him.  Thus  he 
would  be  happy  for  a  moment,  till  reality  came  back 
and  a  dead  dulness  settled  on  his  soul.  Half  afraid  of 
himself,  he  turned  round  and  made  for  home  again  ; 
he  could  not  be  sure  of  his  self-control.  But  again  he 
mastered  that,  and  again  paced  the  streets,  now  in  a 
grim  resolution  to  tire  mind  and  body,  so  that  these 
visions  should  have  nothing  to  work  on  and,  finding 
blank  unresponsive  weariness,  should  go  their  ways 
and  leave  him  in  an  insensible  fatigue.  Ever  since  he 
disclaimed  his  inheritance  he  had  been  living  in  a  stress 
of  excitement  that  had  given  him  a  fortitude  half  un- 
natural ;  now  this  support  seemed  to  fail,  and  with  it 
went  the  power  to  bear. 

The  remedy  worked  well  ;  at  eight  o'clock  he  found 
himself  very  tired,  ver}^  hungry,  unexpectedly  com- 
posed. He  turned  into  a  little  restaurant  to  dine.  The 
place  was  crowded,  and  rather  shamefacedly  (as  is  the 
national  way)  he  sat  down  at  a  small  table  opposite  a 
girl  in  a  light-blue  blouse  and  a  very  big  hat,  who  was 
eating  risotto  and  drinking  lager  beer.  She  assumed 
an  air  of  exaggerated  primness  and  gentility,  keep- 
ing her  eyes  down  toward  her  plate,  and  putting  very 
small  quantities  into  her  mouth  at  a  time.  Glad  of  dis- 
traction, Harry  watched  her  with  amusement.  At  last 
she  glanced  up  stealthily. 

"  A  line  evening,"  he  said,  as  he  started  on  his  chop. 

"  Very  seasonable,"  she  began  in  a  mincing  tone  ; 
but  suddenly  she  broke  oft'  to  exclaim  in  a  voice  and 
accent  more  natural  and  spontaneous,  "  Good  gracious, 
rVe  seen  you  before,  haven't  I  ?  " 

"  I'm  not  aware  that  I  ever  had  the  honor,"  said 
Harry. 

[338] 


■  After  the  End  of   All 

"  Well,  I  know  your  face,  anyhow."  She  was  look- 
ing at  him  and  searching  her  memory.  "  You're  not  at 
the  halls,  are  you  ?  " 

"  No,  I'm  not  at  the  halls." 

"  Well,  I  do  know  your  face — Why,  yes.  I've  seen 
vour  face  in  the  papers.  I  shall  get  it  in  a  minute  now — 
don't  you  tell  me."  She  studied  him  with  deter- 
mination. Harry  ate  away  in  contented  amusement. 
"  Yes,  you're  the  man  who — why,  yes,  you're  Tris- 
tram ?  " 

"  That's  right.     I'm  Tristram." 

"  Well,  to  think  of  that  !  Meeting  you  !  Well,  I 
shall  have  something  to  tell  the  girls.  Why,  a  friend 
of  mine  wrote  down  to  the  country,  special,  for  your 
photo." 

"  That  must  have  proved  a  disappointment,  I'm 
afraid.    The  romance  was  better  than  the  hero." 

"  You  may  sav  romance  !  "  she  conceded  heartily. 

"  To  be  a  lord  and !  "    She  leant  forward.    "  I  say, 

how  do  you  get  your  living  now  ?  "' 

"  Gone  into  the  building-trade,"  he  answered. 

"  You  surprise  me  !  "  The  observation  was  evi- 
dently meant  to-be  extremely  civil.  "But  there,  it 
isn't  so  much  what  your  job  is  as  having  some  job. 
That's  what  I  say." 

"  I  wish  I  always  said — and  thought — things  as  sen- 
sible; "  and  he  took  courage  to  offer  her  another  glass 
of  lager.  She  accepted  with  a  slight  recrudescence  of 
primness  ;  but  her  eyes  did  not  leave  him  now.  "  I 
never  did  !  "  he  heard  her  murmur  as  she  raised  her 
glass.  "  Well,  here's  luck  to  you,  sir  !  (He  had  been  a 
lord  even  if  he  were  now  a  builder).  You  did  the 
straight  thing  in  the  end." 

"  What  ?  "  asked  Harry,  a  little  startled. 

"  Well,  some  did  say  as  you'd  known  it  all  along. 
Oh,  I  don't  say  so  ;  some  did." 

[339] 


Tristram   (?/ Blent 

Harry  began  to  laugh.  "  It  doesn't  matter,  does  it, 
if  I  did  the  straight  thing  in  the  end  ?  " 

"  I'm  sure  as  I  shouldn't  blame  you  if  you  had  been 
a  bit  tempted.  I  l:no\v  what  that  is  !  Well,  sir,  I'll  sav 
good-evening." 

"  Good-evening,  miss,  and  thank  you  very  much," 
said  Harry,  rising  as  she  rose.  His  manner  had  its 
old  touch  of  lordHness.  His  friends  criticised  that 
sometimes  ;  this  young  lady  evidently  approved. 

"  You've  no  cause  to  thank  me,"  said  she,  with  an 
admiring  Ioo'k. 

"  Yes,  I  have.  As  it  happened,  I  believe  I  wanted 
somebody  to  remind  me  that  I  had  done  the  straight 
thing  in  the  end,  and  I'm  much  obliged  to  you  for  doing 
it." 

"  Well,  I  shall  have  something  to  tell  the  girls  !  "  she 
said  again  in  wondering  tones,  as  she  nodded  to  him 
and  turned  slowly  away. 

Harry  was  comforted.  The  stress  of  his  pain  was 
past.  He  sat  on  over  his  simple  meal  in  a  leisurely 
comfortable  fashion.  He  was  happy  in  the  fact  that 
his  enemy  had  at  least  nothing  with  which  she  could 
reproach  him,  that  he  had  no  reason  for  not  holding 
his  head  erect  before  her.  And  the  girl's  philosophy 
had  been  good.  He  had  a  job,  and  that  was  the  great 
thing  in  this  world.  He  felt  confident  that  the  struggle 
was  won  now,  and  that  it  would  never  have  to  be  fought 
again  in  so  severe  a  fashion.  His  self-respect  was  in- 
tact ;  if  he  had  been  beaten,  he  would  never  have  for- 
given himself. 

He  regained  his  rooms.  A  letter  lay  waiting  for  him 
on  the  table.  He  opened  it  and  found  that  it  was  from 
Mina  Zabriska. 

"  We  are  back  here,"  she  wrote.  "  I  am  staying  at  Blent  till 
my  uncle  comes  down.  I  must  write  and  say  good-by  to  you. 
I  dare  say  we  shall  never  meet  again,  or  merely  by  chance.     I 

[340] 


After    t  h  e   E  n  d   o  f   A  r.,  l 

am  very  unhappy  about  it  all,  but  with  two  people  like  Cecily 
and  you  nothing  else  could  have  happened.  I  see  that  now,  and 
I'm  not  going  to  try  to  interfere  any  more.  I  shan't  ask  you  to 
forgive  me  for  interfering,  because  you've  made  the  result  quite 
enough  punishment  for  anything  I  did  wrong.  And  now  Cecily 
goes  about  looking  just  like  you — hard  and  proud  and  grim  ; 
and  she's  begun  to  move  things  about  and  alter  arrangements  at 
Blent.  That's  what  brings  it  home  to  me  most  of  all.  ('  And 
to  me,'  interposed  Harry  as  he  read.)  If  I  was  the  sort  of 
woman  you  think  me,  I  should  go  on  writing  to  you.  But  I 
shan't  write  again.  I  am  going  to  stay  at  Merrion  through  the 
winter,  and  since  you  won't  come  here,  this  is  the  last  of  me  for 
a  long  time  anyhow.     Oh,  you  Tristrams !     Good-by, 

MiNA  Zabriska." 

"  Poor  little  Imp  !  "  said  Harry.  "  She's  a  very  good 
sort  ;  and  she  seems  about  right.  It's  the  end  of  every- 
thing." He  paused  and  looked  round.  "  Except  of 
these  rooms — and  my  work — and,  well,  life  at  large,  you 
know  !  "  He  laughed  in  the  sudden  realization  of  how 
much  was  left  after  there  was  an  end  of  all — life  to  be 
lived,  work  to  be  done,  enjoyments  to  be  won.  He 
could  know  this,  although  he  could  hardly  yet  feel  it 
in  any  very  genuine  fashion.  He  could  project  his 
mind  forward  to  a  future  appreciation  of  what  he  could 
not  at  the  moment  relish  ;  and  he  saw  that  life  would 
be  full  and  rich  with  him,  even  although  there  were  an 
end  of  all.  "  But  I  don't  believe,"  he  said  to  himself, 
slowly  smiling,  "  that  I  should  ever  have  come  to  under- 
stand that  or  to — to  fulfil  it  unless  I  had — what  did  the 
girl  say  ? — done  the  straight  thing  in  the  end,  and 
come  out  of  Blent.  Well,  old  Blent,  good-by  !  "  He 
crumpled  up  Mina's  letter,  and  flung  it  into  the  grate. 

The  maid-servant  opened  the  door.  "  Two  gentle- 
iTicn  to  see  you,  sir,"  she  said. 

"  Oh,  say  I'm  busy "  he  began. 

"  We  must  see  you,  please,"  insisted  Mr  Jenkinson 
Neeld,  with  unusual  firmness.  He  turned  to  the  man 
with  him,  saying  :  "  Here  is  Mr  Tristram,  Colonel 
-•:d-e." 

[341] 


'ft^ 


XXV 

There's  the  Lady  Too  ! 

THERE  was  nothing  very  remarkable  about 
Colonel  Wilmot  Edge.  He  was  a  slightly 
built,  trim  man,  but  his  trimness  was  not  dis- 
tinctively military.  He  might  have  been  anything,  save 
that  just  now  the  tan  on  his  face  witnessed  to  an  out- 
of-door  life.  His  manner  was  cold,  his  method  of 
speech  leisurely  and  methodical.  At  first  sight  Harry 
saw  nothing  in  him  to  modify  the  belief  in  which  he 
had  grown  up — that  the  Edges  were  an  unattractive 
race,  unable  to  appreciate  Tristrams,  much  less  worthy 
to  mate  with  them.  He  gave  the  Colonel  a  chair 
rather  grudgingly,  and  turned  to  old  Mr  Neeld  for  an 
explanation  of  the  visit. 

Neeld  had  fussed  himself  into  a  seat  already,  and  had 
drawn  some  sheets  of  paper  covered  with  type-writing 
from  his  pocket.  He  spread  them  out,  smoothed  them 
down,  cleared  his  throat,  and  answered  Harry's  look 
by  a  glance  at  Edge.  l\Ir  Neeld  was  in  a  fidget,  a  fidget 
of  importance  and  expectancy. 

"  You  will  know,"  said  Edge  gravely,  "  that  no  or- 
dinary matter  has  led  me  to  call  on  you,  Mr  Tristram. 
However  little  we  may  be  responsible  for  the  past,  we 
have  to  recognize  it.  I  should  not,  under  ordinary 
circumstances,  have  sought  your  acquaintance.  You 
must  consider  this  interview  purely  as  one  of  a  business 
kind.  I  have  just  returned  to  England.  For  two 
months  I  have  been  out  of  the  way  of  receiving  letters 
or  newspapers.    I  went  to  the  Imperium  Club  to-night 

[342] 


There's  the   Lady  Too! 

— I  arrived  only  this  morning — and  dined  in  Neeld's 
company.  As  it  chanced,  we  spoke  of  you,  and  I  learnt 
what  has  happened  since  I  left  England.  I  have  lost 
no  time  in  calling  on  you." 

Neeld  was  listening  and  fidgeting  with  his  sheets  of 
paper.  The  Colonel's  preamble  excited  little  interest 
in  Harry.  The  reaction  of  his  struggle  was  on  him  ;  he 
was  courteously  but  not  keenly  attentive. 

■'  It  is  not  agreeable  to  me  to  speak  of  my  brother  to 
you,  Mr  Tristram.  Doubtless  we  should  diflfer  if  we 
discussed  his  character  and  conduct.  It  is  not  neces- 
sary. 

"  Is  Sir  Randolph  Edge  concerned  in  what  you  have 
to  say  to  me  ?  "  asked  Harry. 

"  Yes,  I  am  sorry  to  say  he  is.  Another  person  is 
concerned  also." 

"  One  moment.  You  are,  of  course,  aware  that  I  no 
longer  represent  my  family  ?  Legally  I'm  not  even  a 
member  of  it.  It  is  possible  that  you  ought  to  address 
yourself  to  Lady  Tristram — my  cousin — or  to  her 
lawyers." 

"  I  have  to  speak  to  you.  Is  the  name  of  the  Com- 
tesse  d'Albreville  known  to  you,  Mr  Tristram  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I've  heard  my  mother  speak  of  meeting  her  in 
Paris." 

"  That  would  be  when  Lady  Tristram  was  residing 
with  my  brother  ?  " 

"  My  mother  was  never  in  Paris  after  that,  I  believe. 
It  would  be  at  that  time.  Colonel  Edge." 

"  You  are  aware  that  later — after  he  parted  from 
Lady  Tristram — my  brother  went  to  Russia,  where  he 
had  business  interests  ?  " 

"  I  have  very  good  reason  to  know  that."  Harry 
smiled  at  Mr  Neeld,  who  had  apparently  got  all  he  could 
out  of  his  papers,  and  was  sitting  quiet  and  upright  in 
an  eager  attention. 

[343I 


Tristram  (9/^  Blent 

"  What  I  am  about  to  say  is  known,  I  believe,  to 
myself  alone — and  to  Neeld  here,  to  whom  I  told  it  to- 
night. While  my  brother  was  in  Russia,  he  was  joined 
by  the  Comtesse.  She  paid  him  a  visit — secretly,  I  need 
hardly  add.  She  passed  under  the  name  of  Madame 
Valfier,  and  she  resided  in  the  house  adjoining  Ran- 
dolph's. Lady  Tristram  was  not,  of  course,  aware  of 
the  relations  between  her  and  my  brother.  I  will  come 
now  to  the  time  of  my  brother's  death.  When  he  fell 
ill,  he  had  just  completed  the  sale  of  one  of  his  Russian 
properties.  Lady  Tristram  did  not,  I  dare  say,  speak 
of  the  Comtesse's  character  to  you  ?  " 

"  I  never  remember  hearing  my  mother  speak  of 
anybody's  character,"  said  Harry  with  a  smile. 

"  She  was  a  brilliant  woman — she  died,  by  the  way, 
two  or  three  years  ago — but  extravagant  and  fond  of 
money.  She  prevailed  on  my  brother  to  promise  her 
the  price  of  this  property  as  a  gift.  The  sum  was  con- 
siderable— about  seven  thousand  pounds." 

Harry  nodded.  Here  seemed  to  be  some  possible 
light  on  the  reasons  for  the  interview. 

""  This  money  was  to  be  paid — in  gold — on  a  certain 
day.  I  speak  now  from  information  imparted  to  me 
subsequently  by  the  Comtesse  herself.  It  was  given 
under  a  promise  of  secrecy  which  I  have  kept  hith- 
erto, but  now  find  myself  compelled  in  honesty  to 
break." 

"There  can  be  no  question  of  what  is  your  duty, 
Edge,"  Mr  Neeld  put  in. 

"  I  think  none.  My  brother  during  his  illness  dis- 
cussed the  matter  with  the  Comtesse.  The  money 
was  payable  in  Petersburg.  He  could  not  hope  to  be 
well  enough  to  go  there.  At  her  suggestion  he  signed 
a  paper  authorizing  payment  to  be  made  to  her  or  to 
an  agent  appointed  by  her.  The  money  being  destmed 
for  her  ultimately,  this  naturally  seemed  the  best  ar- 

[344] 


There's  the   Lady  Too! 

rangement.  She  could  go  and  receive  the  money,  or 
send  for  it — as  a  fact  she  went  in  person  when  the  time 
came — and  all  would  be  settled." 

"  Quite  so.  And  the  transaction  would  not  appear 
on  the  face  of  Sir  Randolph's  accounts  or  bank-book," 
Harry  suggested. 

"  It's  possible  that  weight  was  given  to  that  consid- 
eration too,  but  it  is  not  very  material.  The  Comtesse, 
then,  was  in  possession  of  this  authority.  My  brother's 
illness  took  a  turn  for  the  worse.  To  be  brief,  he  died 
before  the  day  came  on  which  the  money  was  to  be 
paid." 

"  And  she  presented  the  authority  all  the  same  ?  " 
asked  Harry.    "  And  got  the  money,  did  she  ?  " 

"  That  is  precisely  the  course  she  adopted,"  assented 
Colonel  Edge. 

Harry  took  a  walk  up  and  down  the  room  and  re- 
turned to  the  hearthrug. 

"  I'm  very  sensible  of  your  kindness  in  coming  here 
to-day,"  he  said,  "  and  your  conduct  is  that  of  a  man 
of  honor.  But  at  this  point  I'll  stop  you,  please.  I'm 
aware  that  prima  facie  the  law  would  pronounce  me 
to  be  Sir  Randolph's  son.  That  has  always  been  dis- 
claimed on  our  side  and  could  easily  be  disproved  on 
yours.  I  have  nothing  to  do  with  Sir  Randolph  Edge 
or  his  property." 

The  Colonel  listened  unmoved. 

"  In  any  case  you  would  have  nothing  to  do  with  my 
brother's  property,"  he  remarked.  "  He  left  a  will  by 
which  I  was  constituted  sole  legatee." 

"  Then  if  she  robbed  anybody  she  robbed  you  ?  " 

"  Certainly  ;  and  three  years  later  she  came  and  told 
me  so." 

"  Then  how  in  the  world  does  it  concern  me  ?  "  cried 
Harry  impatiently. 

"  You  put  your  finger  on  the  spot,  Mr  Tristram,  but 

[345] 


Tristram  of^  Blent 

you  took  it  off  again.  You  said  she  presented  the  au- 
thority all  the  same." 

"  Yes.  The  authority  would  be  revoked  by  his 
death.  At  least  I  suppose  there's  no  question  of  that  ? 
Did  she  get  at  them  before  they  heard  of  the  death  ?  " 

"  This  money  was  payable  on  the  22nd  June — the 
loth  as  it's  reckoned  in  Russia — but  we  needn't  trouble 
about  that.  As  you  and  Neeld  are  both  aware,  on  the 
18th  my  brother  fell  into  a  collapse  which  was  mistaken 
for  death." 

"  Yes,  the  i8th,"  murmured  Neeld,  referring  to  the 
paper  before  him,  and  reading  Josiah  Cholderton's  ac- 
count of  what  Madame  de  Kries  had  told  him  at  Heidel- 
berg. 

"  From  that  attack  he  rallied  temporarily,  but  not 
until  his  death  had  been  reported." 

"  I  am  not  the  man  to  forget  that  circumstance," 
said  Harry. 

"  The  report  of  his  death  was,  of  course,  contra- 
dicted immediately.  The  doctor  attending  him  saw  to 
that." 

"  Naturally ;  and  I  suppose  the  Comtesse  would  see 
to  it  too." 

"  And  the  only  importance  that  the  occurrence  of 
the  18th  has  for  us  at  present  is  that,  according  to  the 
Comtesse's  story,  it  suggested  to  the  doctor  the  course 
which  she,  on  his  prompting  as  she  declared  and  cer- 
tainly with  his  connivance,  afterward  adopted.  My 
brother,  having  rallied  from  his  first  collapse,  kept  up 
the  fight  a  little  while  longer.  It  was,  however,  plain 
to  the  doctor  that  he  could  live  but  a  very  short  time. 
The  Comtesse  knew  this.  My  brother  was  not  in  a  con- 
dition to  transact  business  and  was  incapable  of  secur- 
ing to  her  any  benefit  by  testamentary  disposition  even 
if  he  had  wished  to  do  so.  Her  only  chance  was  the 
money  for  the  property.    This  she  saw  her  way  to  se- 

[346] 


There's  the   Lady  Too! 

curing  with  the  doctor's  help,  even  although  my 
brothej-  should  die  before  it  fell  due  and  the  authority 
she  held  should  thereby  lose  its  legal  validity." 

"  You  mean  that  they  determined  to  carry  out  a 
fraud  if  necessary  ?  " 

"  Precisely.  I  must  remind  you  that  my  brother 
knew  nothing  of  this.  He  was  altogether  past  under- 
standing anything  about  it.  I  may  be  very  brief  now, 
but  I  am  still  anxious  that  you  should  fully  understand. 
All  that  I'm  saying  to  you  is  beyond  question  and  can 
be  proved  at  any  time  by  taking  evidence  on  the  spot  ; 
it  is  easily  available." 

Harry  had  sat  down  by  now  and  was  listening  in- 
tently. 

"  On  the  morning  of  the  22nd,"  Edge  pursued  in  his 
level  methodical  way,  "  the  Comtesse  went  to  the  sta- 
tion escorted  by  Dr  Migratz  ;  that  w^as  his  name — 
rather  that  is  his  name  ;  he  is  still  alive.  On  the  way 
they  met  the  British  Vice-Consul,  and  in  reply  to  in- 
(juiries  from  him  said  that  my  brother  had  had  another 
attack  but  had  rallied  again.  Dr  ^Migratz  expressed 
the  opinion  that  he  would  live  another  two  days,  while 
iNladame  Yalfier  (the  Vice-Consul  knew  her  by  that 
name)  was  sanguine  enough  to  talk  of  the  possibility 
of  a  recovery.  She  impressed  him  very  much  by  her 
courage  and  hopefulness  ;  she  was,  1  may  remark,  a 
handsome  and  attractive  woman.  Leaving  the  Vice- 
Consul,  they  reached  the  station  and  there  parted. 
Migratz  returned  immediately  to  my  brother's  house 
and  remained  there,  the  case  being  declared  to  be  so 
critical  as  to  require  unremitting  attention.  Madame 
Valfier — the  Comtesse — took  the  train  to  Petersburg, 
reached  it  that  evening,  presented  the  authority  early 
next  morning,  and  was  back  about  midnight — that  be- 
ing the  23rd.  The  next  day  my  brother's  death  was 
announced,  certified  bv  Migratz,  and  duly  registered 

'    [347] 


Tristram  of  Blent 

as  the  law  of  the  place  required."  He  drew  a  paper 
from  his  pocket.  "  This  is  a  copy  of  the  entry,  showing 
death  on  the  24th." 

"  That  document  is  very  familiar  to  me,  Colonel 
Edge.     It  gives  both  styles,  doesn't  it  ?  " 

"  Yes,  both  styles,  but — Well,  you  see  for  yourself. 
My  story  is  done.  With  Migratz's  connivance — a 
woman  who  acted  as  nurse  was  squared  too,  and  her 
evidence  is  available — the  actual  date  of  death  was  con- 
cealed, and  the  Comtesse  d'Albreville  had  time  to 
present  her  authority  and  receive  the  money.  After 
paying  her  accomplices  their  price,  she  left  Russia  with 
the  bulk  of  it  immediately." 

Harry  glanced  at  Neeld  ;  the  old  man's  face  was  full 
of  excitement  and  his  hand  trembled  as  it  lay  on  the 
leaves  of  Josiah  Cholderton's  Journal. 

"  My  mother  was  married  to  my  father  on  the  23rd," 
said  Harry  slowly. 

"  My  brother  died  on  the  22nd,"  said  Wilmot  Edge. 
"  He  was  dead  before  the  Comtesse  started  for  Peters- 
burg." 

Harry  made  no  comment.  He  sat  still  and  thought- 
ful. 

"  Of  course  I  was  put  on  the  track  of  the  afifair," 
Edge  pursued,  "  by  the  disappearance  of  the  money. 
I  had  little  dif^culty  in  guessing  that  there  had  been 
something  queer,  but  what  it  was  did  not  cross  my 
mind  for  a  long  while.  Even  after  I  had  a  clew,  I  found 
Migratz  a  tough  customer,  and  for  a  long  time  I  totally 
failed  to  identify  Madame  Valfier.  When,  thanks  to  a 
series  of  chances,  I  did  so,  it  was  a  shock  to  me.  She 
was  the  wife  of  a  man  of  high  position  and  high  repu- 
tation. She  had  contrived — she  w-as  a  remarkable 
woman — to  carry  out  this  expedition  of  hers  without 
rousing  any  suspicion  ;  she  had  returned  to  her  hus- 
band and  children.    Finding  herself  in  danger,  she  took 

[348] 


There's   the   Lady   Too  ! 

the  bold  course  of  throwing  herself  on  my  mercy,  and 
sent  for  me  to  Paris.  It  was  not  my  desire  to  rake  up 
the  story,  to  injure  my  brother's  memory,  or  to  break 
up  the  woman's  home.  I  pocketed  the  loss  as  far  as 
I  was  concerned.  As  for  you,  I  didn't  know  you  were 
concerned.  I  had  never  gone  into  the  details  ;  I  ac- 
cepted the  view  which  your  own  conduct,  and  Lady 
Tristram's,  suggested.  I  promised  silence,  guarding 
myself  by  a  proviso  that  I  must  speak  if  the  interests 
of'third  persons  were  ever  affected.  Your  interests  are 
affected  now%  and  I  have  spoken,  Mr  Tristram — or 
Lord  Tristram,  as  I  undoubtedly  ought  to  say." 

Harry  turned  to  Mr  Neeld  with  a  smile  and  pointed 
at  the  leaves  of  the  Journal. 

"  There  was  something  Cholderton  didn't  know 
after  all,"  he  said.  "  A  third  date — neither  the  i8th  nor 
the  24th  !  Twenty-four  hours  !  Well,  I  suppose  it's 
enough  !  " 

"  It's  enough  to  make  all  the  difference  to  you,"  said 
Neeld.  *'  It  makes  the  action  you  took  in  giving  up 
your  position  unnecessary  and  wrong.  It  restores  the 
state  of  things  which  existed " 

"  Before  you  and  Mina  Zabriska  came  to  Blent — and 
brought  Mr  Cholderton  ?  "  He  sat  smiling  a  moment. 
"  Forgive  me  ;  I'm  very  inhospitable,"  he  said,  and 
offered  them  cigarettes  and  whiskey. 

Neeld  refused  ;  the  Colonel  took  both. 

"  You  may  imagine  with  what  feelings  I  heard  your 
story,"  Edge  resumed,  "  and  found  that  the  Com- 
tesse's  fraud  was  really  the  entire  basis  of  your  action. 
If  I  had  been  in  England  the  thing  need  never  have 
happened." 

"  It  has  happened,"  said  Harry,  "  and — and  I  don't 
quite  know  where  we  are."  For  the  world  was  all  al- 
tered again,  just  when  the  struggle  of  the  evening  had 
seemed  to  settle  it.    The  memory  of  the  girl  in  the  res- 

[349] 


Tristram   oJ  Blent 

taurant  flashed  across  his  mind.  What  would  she — 
what  would  she  say  to  this  ? 

Colonel  Edge  was  evidently  rather  a  talkative  man. 
He  began  again,  rather  as  though  he  were  delivering  a 
little  set  speech. 

"  It's  perhaps  hardly  to  be  expected,"  he  said,  "  that 
any  degree  of  intimacy  should  exist  between  your 
family  and  mine,  Lord  Tristram,  but  I  venture  to  hope 
that  the  part  which  it  has  been  my  privilege  to  play  to- 
day may  do  something  to  obliterate  the  memories  of 
the  past.  We  don't  perhaps  know  all  the  rights  of  it. 
I  am  loyal  to  my  brother,  but  I  knew  the  late  Lady 
Tristram,  and  I  can  appreciate  all  that  her  friends 
valued  and  prized  in  her." 

"  Very  good,  Edge,  very  good,"  murmured  emo- 
tional old  Mr  Neeld.     "  \'ery  proper,  most  proper." 

"  And  I  hope  that  old  quarrels  need  not  be  eternal  ?  " 

"  I'm  very  much  in  your  debt,  and  I'm  sincerely 
grateful,  Colonel  Edge.  As  for  the  past — There  are 
graves  ;  let  it  lie  in  them." 

"  Thank  you,  Lord  Tristram,  thank  you,"  and  the 
Colonel  gave  Harry  his  hand. 

"  Excellent,  excellent  !  "  muttered  Mr  Neeld  as  he 
folded  up  the  leaves  of  Josiah  Cholderton's  diary. 

"  You  can  call  on  me  for  proofs  whenever  you  wish 
to  proceed.  After  what  has  occurred,  I  presume  they 
will  be  necessary." 

"  Yes,  yes — for  his  seat,"  assented  Neeld. 

"  And  to  satisfy  public  opinion,"  added  Edge. 

There  was  a  pause.  Neeld  broke  it  by  saying 
timidly  : 

"  And — er — there  is,  of  course,  the — the  lady.  The 
lady  who  now  holds  the  title  and  estates." 

"  Of  course  !  "  agreed  Edge,  with  a  nod  that  apolo- 
gized for  forgetfulness. 

Of  course  there  was  !    Harry  smiled.    He  had  been 

[350] 


There's  the  Lady  Too  ! 

wondering  how  long  they  would  take  to  think  of  the 
lady  who  now  held  the  title  and  estates.  Well,  they 
had  come  to  her  at  last — after  providing  for  the  require- 
ments of  the  House  of  Lords  and  the  demands  of  pub- 
lic opinion — after  satisfying  the  girl  in  the  restaurant, 
in  fact.    Yes,  of  course,  there  was  the  lady  too. 

Though  he  smiled,  he  was  vexed  and  s.ufifered  a 
vague  disappointment.  It  is  to  be  wished  that  things 
would  happen  in  a  manner  harmonious  with  their  true 
nature — the  tragic  tragically,  the  comic  so  that  laughter 
roars  out,  the  melodramatic  with  the  proper  limelight 
eflfects.  To  do  the  Tristrams  justice,  this  was  generally 
achieved  where  they  were  concerned  ;  Harry  could 
have  relied  on  his  mother  and  on  Cecily  ;  he  could  rely 
on  himself  if  he  were  given  a  suitable  environment, 
one  that  appealed  to  him  and  afforded  responsive  feel- 
ings. The  family  was  not  in  the  habit  of  wasting  its 
opportunities  for  emotion.  I'ut  who  could  be  emotional 
now — in  face  of  these  two  elderly  gentlemen  ?  Neeld's 
example  made  such  a  thing  ridiculous.  Colonel  Edge 
would  obviously  consider  it  unsoldier-like.  The  chance 
had  been  frittered  away  ;  life  was  at  its  old  game  of 
neglecting  its  own  possibilities.  There  was  nothing 
but  to  acquiesce  ;  fine  melodrama  had  been  degraded 
into  a  business  interview  with  two  elderly  and  con- 
scientious gentlemen.  The  scene  in  the  Long  Gallery 
had  at  least  been  different  from  this  !  Harry  bowed 
his  head  ;  he  must  be  thankful  for  small  blessings  ; 
it  was  something  that  they  had  remembered  the  lady 
at  last. 

At  a  glance  from  Edge,  Neeld  rose  to  go. 

"  Pray  wait — wait  a  minute  or  two,"  begged  Harry. 
"  I  want  to  think  for  a  minute." 

Neeld  sat  down  again.  It  is  very  likely  they  were  as 
surprised  at  him  as  he  was  childishly  vexed  with  them. 
For  he  exhibited  perfect  calm.     Yet  perhaps  Colonel 

[351] 


Tristram  of  Blent 

Edge,  who  had  given  so  colorless  an  account  of  the 
Comtesse's  wild  appeal  to  him,  was  well  suited. 

"  I'm  going  down  to  Iver's  to-morrow,"  said  old 
Neeld,  tucking  the  extract  from  the  Journal  into  his 
pocket. 

"To  Iver's?"  After  a  moment's  silence  Harry 
fairly  laughed.  Edge  was  surprised,  not  understanding 
what  a  difference  the  Comtesse's  manoeuvre  had  made 
there  too.  He  could  not  be  expected  to  know  all  the 
difference  it  had  made  to  Harry's  life,  even  to  the 
man  himself.  Two  irresponsible  ladies — say  Addie 
and — well,  Madame  Valfier — may  indeed  make  differ- 
ences. 

"  Yes,  to  Fairholme,"  continued  old  Neeld.  "  We — 
we  may  see  you  there  now  ?  " 

Edge  looked  up  with  an  interested  glance.  It  had 
occurred  to  him  that  he  was  turning  somebody  out  as 
well  as  putting  somebody  in. 

"  You'll  have,  of  course,  to  communicate  what  I  have 
said  to — to ?  " 

"  Oh,  we'll  say  Lady  Tristram  still,"  Harry  inter- 
rupted. 

Edge  gave  a  little  bow.  "  I  shall  be  ready  to  meet 
her  or  her  advisers  at  any  time,"  he  remarked.  "  She 
will,  I  hope,  recognize  that  no  other  course  was  open 
to  me.  She  must  not  think  that  there  is  any  room  for 
doubt." 

Harry's  brain  was  at  work  now  ;  he  saw  himself  go- 
ing to  Blent,  going  to  tell  Cecily. 

"  Possibly,"  Mr  Neeld  suggested,  "  it  would  be  better 
to  intrust  a  third  person  with  the  task  of  giving  her 
this  news  ?  One  of  her  own  sex  perhaps  ?  "  He 
seemed  to  contemplate  a  possible  fainting-fit,  and,  re- 
membering his  novels,  the  necessity  of  cutting  stay- 
laces,  a  task  better  left  to  women. 

"  You're  thinking  of  Mina  ?    Of  Mina  Zabriska  ?  " 

[352] 


There's  the  Lady  Too! 

asked  Harry,  laughing.  There  again,  what  a  loss  ! 
Why  had  not  Mina  heard  it  at  first  hand  ?  She  would 
have  known  how  to  treat  the  thing. 

"  She's  always  taken  a  great  interest  in  the  matter, 
and — and  I  understand  is  very  friendly  with — with  Miss 
Gainsborough,"  said  Neeld. 

"  We  shall  have  to  make  up  our  minds  what  to  call 
ourselves  soon,"  sighed  Harry. 

"  There  can  be  no  doubt  at  all,"  Edge  put  in  ;  "  and 
if  I  may  venture  to  suggest,  I  should  say  that  the 
sooner  the  necessity  is  faced  the  better." 

"  Certainly,  certainly,"  Harry  assented  absently. 
Even  the  girl  in  the  restaurant  must  know  about  it 
soon  ;  there  must  be  another  pow-w^owing  in  all  the 
papers  soon.     But  what  would  Cecily  say  ?    "  If  ever 

the  time  comes ."    He  had  laughed  at  that  ;  it  had 

sounded  so  unlikely,  so  unreal,  so  theatrical.  "  If  ever 
the  time  comes,  I  shall  remember."  That  was  a  strange 
thing  to  look  back  to  now.  But  it  was  all  strange — 
the  affair  of  the  beastly  new  viscounty,  Blinkhampton 
and  its  buildings,  the  Arbitration  and  the  confidence  of 
Mr  Disney.  Madame  Valfier — Comtessc  d'Albreville 
— with  a  little  help  from  Addie  Tristram  had  brought 
all  these  things  about.  The  result  of  Harry's  review 
of  them  was  English  enough  to  satisfy  Wilmot  Edge 
himself. 

"  The  whole  thing  makes  me  look  rather  an  ass,  I 
think,"  said  he. 

"  No  doubt  you  acted  impulsively,"  Edge  allowed. 
It  was  fully  equivalent  to  an  assent. 

"  Good  heavens,  I'd  been  brought  up  to  it  !  It  had 
always  been  the  fact  of  my  life."  He  made  no  pre- 
tences about  the  matter  now.  "  It  never  occurred  to 
me  to  think  of  any  mistake.  That  certificate" — it  lay 
on  the  table  still — "  was  the  sword  of  Damocles."  He 
laughed  as  he  spoke  the  hackneyed  old  phrase.    "  And 

[353] 


Tristram   ^  Blent 

Damocles  knew  the  sword  was  there,  or  there'd  have 
been  no  point  in  it." 

The  two  had  rather  lost  track  of  his  mood.  They 
looked  at  one  another  again. 

"  You've  a  lot  to  think  of.  We'll  leave  you,"  said  the 
Colonel. 

"  But — but  what  am  I  to  do  ?  "  Old  Neeld's  voice 
was  almost  a  bleat  in  his  despair.  "  Am  I  to  tell  people 
at  Blentmouth  ?  " 

"  The  communication  should  come  from  an  authori- 
tative quarter,"  Edge  advised. 

"  It's  bound  to  be  a  blow  to  her,"  said  Neeld.  "  Sud- 
denly lifted  up,  suddenly  thrown  down  !    Poor  girl  !  " 

"  Justice  is  the  first  thing,"  declared  Wilmot  Edge. 
Now  he  might  have  been  on  a  court-martial. 

They  knew  nothing  whatever  of  the  truth  or  the 
true  position. 

"  We  may  rely  on — on  Lord  Tristram — to  treat  the 
matter  with  every  delicacy,  Edge." 

"  I'm  sure  of  it,  Neeld,  I'm  sure  of  it." 

"  He  has  been  through  what  is  practically  the  same 
experience  himself." 

"  A  very  remarkable  case,  very  remarkable.  The 
state  of  the  law  which  makes  such  a  thing  possible " 

"  Ah,  there  I  don't  agree.  Edge.  There  may  be 
hardships  on  individuals,  but  in  the  interests  of 
morality " 

"  You  must  occasionally  put  up  with  damned  ab- 
surdity," Harry  interrupted  rather  roughly.  "  I  beg 
vour  pardon,  Mr  Neeld.  I — I'm  a  bit  worried  over 
this." 

They  sat  silent  then,  watching  him  for  a  few  mo- 
ments. He  stood  leaning  his  arm  on  the  mantel-piece, 
his  brows  knit  but  a  smile  lingering  on  his  lips.  He 
was  seeing  the  scene  again,  the  scene  in  which  he  was 
to  tell  Cecily.    He  knew  what  the  end  of  it  would  be. 

[354] 


There's   the   Lady   Too! 

They  were  strangers  now.  The  scene  would  leave  them 
strangers  still.  Still  Mina  Zabriska  would  be  left  to 
cry,  "  You  Tristrams  !  "  Given  that  they  were  Tris- 
trams,  no  other  result  was  possible.  They  had  been 
through  what  Mr  Neeld  called  practically  the  same  ex- 
perience already ;  in  that  very  room  it  had  happened. 

Suddenly  the  two  men  saw  a  light  born  in  Harry's 
eyes  ;  his  brow  grew  smooth,  the  smile  on  his  lips 
wider.  He  gave  a  moment's  more  consideration  to  the 
new  thing.  Then  he  raised  his  head  and  spoke  to 
Wilmot  Edge. 

"  There  are  a  good  many  complications  in  this  mat- 
ter, Colonel  Edge.  I've  had  my  life  upset  once  before, 
and  I  assure  you  it's  rather  troublesome  work.  It 
wants  a  little  time  and  a  little  thinking.  You  get  rather 
confused — always  changing  your  train,  you  know.  I 
have  work  on  hand — plans  and  so  forth.  And,  as  you 
say,  of  course  there's  the  lady  too."  He  laughed  as 
he  ended  by  borrowing  Neeld's  phrase. 

"  I  can  understand  all  that,  Lord  Tristram." 

"  Do  you  mind  saying  Mr  Tristram  ?  Saying  Mr 
Tristram  to  me  and  to  everybody  for  the  present  ?  It 
won't  be  for  long  ;  a  week  perhaps." 

"  You  mean,  keep  the  change  in  the  position  a  se- 
cret ?  "    Edge  seemed  rather  startled. 

"  You've  kept  the  secret  for  many  years,  Colonel. 
Shall  we  say  a  week  more  ?  And  you  too,  Mr  Neeld  ? 
Nothing  at  all  to  the  people  at  Blentmouth  ?  Shall  we 
keep  Miss  S.  in  the  dark  for  a  week  more  ?  "  The 
thought  of  Miss  Swinkerton  carried  obvious  amuse- 
ment with  it. 

"  You  mean  to  choose  your  opportunity  with — with 
your  cousin  ?  "  Neeld  asked. 

"  Yes,  exactly — to  choose  my  opportunity.  You  see 
the  difficult  character  of  the  situation  ?  I  ask  your  ab- 
solute silence  for  a  week." 

[3551 


Tristram  of  Blent 

"Really    I "      Old    Neeld    hesitated    a    little. 

"These  concealments  lead  to  such  complications,"  he 
complained.  He  was  thinking,  no  doubt,  of  the  Iver 
engagement  and  the  predicament  in  which  it  had  landed 
him. 

**  I  don't  ask  it  on  my  own  account.  There's  my 
cousin." 

"  Yes,  yes,  Neeld,  there's  the  lady  too." 

"  Well,  Edge,  if  you're  satisfied,  I  can't  stand  out. 
For  a  week  then — silence." 

''  Absolute  !  "  said  Harry.  "  Without  a  look  or  a 
word  ?  " 

**  You  have  my  promise,"  said  Wilmot  Edge. 

"  And  mine.  But — but  I  shall  feel  very  awkward," 
sighed  poor  Mr  Neeld.  He  might  have  added  that  he 
did  feel  a  sudden  and  poignant  pang  of  disappointment. 
Lived  there  the  man  who  would  not  have  liked  to  carry 
that  bit  of  news  in  his  portmanteau  when  he  went  out 
of  town  ?  At  least  that  man  was  not  Mr  Jenkinson 
Neeld. 

"  I'll  choose  my  time,  and  I  won't  keep  you  long," 
said  Harry. 

With  that  they  left  him.  But  they  had  a  word  to- 
gether before  Edge  caught  his  'bus  in  Piccadilly. 

"  Cool  young  chap  !  "  said  he.  "  Took  it  quietly 
enough." 

"  Yes,  considering  the  enormous  difference  it 
makes,"  agreed  Neeld.  His  use  of  that  particular 
phrase  was  perhaps  an  unconscious  reminiscence  of 
the  words  in  the  Journal,  the  words  that  Addie  used 
when  she  burst  into  Madame  de  Kries's  room  at  Heidel- 
berg. 

Edge  chuckled  a  little.  "  Not  much  put  out  about 
the  girl  either,  eh  ?  " 

"  Now  you  say  so "    Neeld  shook  his  head.    "  I 

hope  he'll  do  it  tactfully,"  he  sighed. 

[356] 


There's   the   Lady  Too! 

Edge  did  not  seem  to  consider  that  likely.  He  in  his 
turn  shook  his  head. 

"  I  said  no  more  than  I  thought  about  Addie  Tris- 
tram," he  remarked.  "  But  the  fact  is,  they're  a  rum 
lot,  and  there's  no  getting  over  it,  Neeld." 

"  They — er — have  their  peculiarities,  no  doubt,"  ad- 
mitted Mr  Neeld. 


[357] 


XXVI 

A  Business  Call 

"  ni^  jjjT  Y  dear,  isn't  there  something  odd  about 
\/t   Mr  Neeld  ?  "     Mrs  Iver  put  the  question, 

J.T  JLher  anxious  charity  struggHng  with  a 
natural  inquisitiveness. 

"  About  Neeld  ?  I  don't  know.  Is  there  ?  "  He  did 
not  so  much  as  look  up  from  his  paper.  "  He's  coming 
with  us  to  Blent  to-night,  I  suppose  ?  " 

"  Yes.  And  he  seems  quite  excited  about  that.  And 
he  was  positively  rude  to  Miss  Swinkerton  at  lunch 
when  she  told  him  that  Lady  Tristram  meant  to  give 
a  ball  next  winter.  I  expect  his  nerves  are  out  of 
order." 

Small  wonder  if  they  were,  surely  !  Let  us  suppose 
Guy  Fawkes's  scheme  not  prematurely  discovered,  and 
one  Member  of  a  full  House  privy  to  it  and  awaiting  the 
result.  That  Member's  position  would  be  very  like  Mr 
Neeld's.  Would  he  listen  to  the  debate  with  attention  ? 
Could  he  answer  questions  with  sedulous  courtesy  ? 

From  the  moment  of  his  arrival  ]\Ir  Neeld  had  been 
plunged  into  the  Tristram  affair,  and  surrounded  by 
people  who  were  connected  with  it.  But  it  must  be  ad- 
mitted that  he  had  it  on  his  brain  and  saw  it  every- 
where. For  to-day  it  was  not  the  leading  topic  of  the 
neighborhood,  and  Miss  S.'s  observation  had  been 
only  by  the  way.  The  engagement  was  the  topic,  and 
only  Neeld  (or  perhaps  Mina  Zabriska  too,  at  Blent), 
insisted  on  digging  up  a  hypothetical  past  and  repeat- 
ing, in  retrospective  rumination,  that  Harry  Tristram 
might  have  been  the  lucky  man.    As  for  such  an  idea 

[358] 


.A  Business   Call 

— well,  Miss  S.  happened  to  know  that  there  had  never 
been  anything  in  it  ;  Janie  Iver  herself  had  told  her  so, 
she  said.  The  question  between  Janie  and  Miss  S., 
which  this  assertion  raises,  may  be  passed  by  without 
discussion. 

He  had  met  Gainsborough  essaying  a  furtive  entry 
into  Blentmouth  and  heading  toward  the  curiosity- 
shop — with  a  good  excuse  this  time.  It  was  Cecily's 
birthday,  and  the  occasion,  which  was  to  be  celebrated 
by  a  dinner-party,  must  be  marked  by  a  present  also. 
Neeld  went  with  the  little  gentleman,  and  they  bought 
a  bit  of  old  Chelsea  (which  looked  very  young  for  its 
age).  Coming  out,  Gainsborough  sighted  Mrs  Trum- 
bler  coming  up  High  Street  and  Miss  S.  coming  down 
it.  He  doubled  up  a  side  street  to  the  churchyard, 
Neeld  pursuing  him  at  a  more  leisurely  pace. 

"  It's  positively  worthy  of  a  place  at  Blent — in  the 
Long  Gallery,"  panted  Gainsborough,  hugging  his 
brown-paper-covered  prize.  "  You'll  be  interested  to 
see  the  changes  we're  making,  Mr  Neeld.  Cecily  has 
begun  to  take  an  enormous  interest  in  the  house,  and 
I — I'm  settling  down." 

'■  You  don't  regret  London  ever?  " 

"  I  shall  run  up  now  and  then.  My  duty  is  to  my 
daughter.  Of  course  her  life  is  changed."  He  sighed 
as  he  added,  "  We're  getting  quite  used  to  that." 

"  She  has  come  to  love  the  place,  1  dare  say  ?  " 

"  Yes,  yes.  She's  in  very  good  spirits  and  quite 
hapi)y  in  her  position  now,  I  think."  He  glanced  over 
his  shoulder.  Miss  S.  was  in  sight.  "  Good-by.  So 
glad  we  shall  see  you  to-night."  He  made  his  escape 
at  a  run.  Neeld,  having  been  interrogated  at  lunch 
already,  was  allowed  to  pass  by  with  a  lift  of  his  hat. 

Janie  was  very  happy.  She  at  least  thought  no  more 
of  that  bygone  episode.  She  asked  no  questions  about 
Harry  Tristram.    He  had  dropped  out  of  her  life.    He 

[359] 


Tristram  ^  Blent 

seemed  to  have  dropped  out  of  the  hfe  of  the  country- 
side too.  That  was  strange  anyhow,  when  it  was 
remembered  how  large  a  local  figure  the  young  man 
had  cut  when  Neeld  came  first  to  Fairholme  ;  it  was 
stranger  still  in  view  of  what  must  soon  be.  The  an- 
nouncement of  the  engagement  seemed  to  assume  to 
write  Finis  to  Harry  as  a  factor  in  Blentmouth  society. 
In  that  point  of  view  the  moment  chosen  for  it  was  full 
of  an  unconscious  irony.  Janie  would  not  have  gone 
back  to  him  now,  and  Neeld  did  not  suspect  her  of  any 
feeling  which  could  have  made  that  possible.  It  was 
merely  odd  that  she  should  be  putting  an  appropriate 
finish  to  a  thing  which  in  the  meantime  had  been  sud- 
denly, absolutely,  and  radically  undone.  Neeld  was 
loyal  to  his  word  ;  but  none  may  know  the  terrible 
temptation  he  suffered  ;  a  nod,  a  wink,  a  hint,  an  am- 
biguity— anything  would  have  given  him  some  relief. 

Harry  was  mentioned  only  once — in  connection  with 
his  letter  to  Iver  about  the  Arbitration.  Iver  was  not 
inclined  to  let  him  go. 

"  He  has  great  business  ability.  It's  a  pity  to  waste 
his  time.    He  can  make  money,  Neeld." 

"  Disney's  a  good  friend  to  ha'/e,"  Neeld  suggested. 

"  If  he  stays  in,  yes.  But  this  thing  won't  be 
popular." 

Neeld  could  maintain  no  interest  in  the  conversation. 
It  had  to  proceed  all  along  on  a  baseless  presumption, 
to  deal  with  a  state  of  things  which  did  not  exist.  What 
might  be  wise  for  Harry — Harry  Nothing-at-all — 
might  be  unwise  for  Tristram  of  Blent,  and  conversely. 

"  I  must  leave  it  to  him,"  Iver  concluded.  "  But  I 
shall  tell  him  that  I  hope  he  won't  go.  He's  got  his 
way  in  the  world  to  make  first.  He  can  try  politics 
later  on,  if  he  likes." 

"  No  doubt  you're  right,"  murmured  old  Neeld, 
both  uneasy  and  uninterested.    He  was  feeling  some- 

[360] 


A   Business   Call 

thing  of  what  he  had  experienced  once  before  ;  he 
knew  the  truth  and  he  had  to  keep  his  friend  in  the  dark. 
In  those  earUer  days  he  had  one  confidant,  one  accom- 
pUce,  in  Mina  Zabriska.  The  heavy  secret  was  all  his 
own  to  carry  now. 

As  a  consequence  of  his  preoccupation  Janie  Iver 
found  him  rather  unsympathetic,  and  with  her  usual 
candor  she  told  him  so. 

"  You  don't  really  appreciate  Bob,"  said  she.  "  No- 
body quite  knows  him  except  me.  I  didn't  use  to,  but 
now  I  know  what  a  strong  character  he  has." 

Unwontedly  cynical  thoughts  rose  in  old  Mr  Neeld. 
Had  he  come  down  to  Fairholme  to  listen  to  the  plati- 
tudes of  virtuous  love  ?  Indeed  he  had  come  for  no 
such  thing.  All  young  men  have  strong  characters 
while  they  are  engaged. 

"  And  it's  such  a  comfort  to  have  a  man  one  can  lean 
upon,"  Janie  pursued,  looking,  however,  admirably 
capable  of  standing  without  extraneous  support. 

There  it  was  again  }  She'd  be  calling  him  her 
'■  master  "  next — as  the  heroine  does  in  the  Third  Act, 
to  unfailing  applause.  What  was  all  this  to  ears  that 
listened  for  a  whisper  of  Harry  Tristram  ? 

"  The  most  delightful  thing  is,"  Janie  pursued,  "  that 
our  marriage  is  to  make  no  change  at  all  in  his  way  of 
life.  We're  going  to  live  at  Mingham  just  as  he  has 
lived  all  his  life — a  real  country  life  on  a  farm  !  "  There 
was  no  hint  that  other  ideals  of  existence  had  ever 
possessed  an  alluring  charm  ;  the  high  life  with  Harry, 
the  broad  and  cosmopolitan  life  with  the  Major — where 
were  they  ?  "  I've  insisted  on  it,  the  one  thing  I've  had 
my  own  way  in." 

Bob  was  being  transmogrified  into  a  Man  of  Iron,  if 
not  of  Blood.  Vainly  Mr  Neeld  consulted  his 
memories. 

"  And  Mingham's  so  bound  up  with  it  all.    I  used  to 

[361] 


Tristram   ^  Blent 

go  there  with  Mina  Zabriska."  She  smiled  in  retrcj- 
spect  ;  it  would  have  been  pardonable  if  Neeld  had 
smiled  too.  "  I  haven't  seen  her  for  ever  so  long," 
Janie  added,  "  but  she'll  be  at  Blent  to-night." 

Ah,  if  he  might  give  just  the  barest  hint  to  Mina 
now  ! 

"  Bob  isn't  particularly  fond  of  her,  you  see,  so  we 
don't  meet  much  now.  He  thinks  she's  rather  spite- 
ful." 

"  Not  at  all,"  said  Neeld,  almost  sharply.  "  She's  a 
very  intelligent  woman." 

"  Oh  yes,"intelligent  !  "  She  said  no  more.  If  people 
did  not  agree  with  Bob — well,  there  it  was. 

Bob  bore  his  idealization  very  well.  It  was  easy  to 
foresee  a  happy  and  a  remarkably  equable  married  life. 
But  the  whole  thing  had  no  flavor  for  Mr  Neeld's 
palate,  spoilt  by  the  spices  of  Tristram  vagaries.  A 
decent  show  of  friendliness  was  all  he  could  muster.  It 
was  all  that  Iver  himself  seemed  to  expect  ;  he  was 
resigned  but  by  no  means  exultant. 

"The  girl's  very  happy,  and  that's  the  thing.  For 
myself — well,  I've" got  most  of  the  things  I  started  to 
get,  and  if  this  isn't  quite  what  I  looked  forward  to — 
Well,  you  remember  how  things  fell  out  ?  " 

Neeld  nodded.    He  remembered  that  very  well. 

"  And,  as  I  say,  it's  all  very  satisfactory."  He 
shrugged  his  shoulders  and  relighted  his  cigar.  He 
was  decidedly  a  reasonable  man,  thought  Neeld. 

The  evening  came — Neeld  had  been  impatient  for 
it — and  they  drove  over  to  Blent,  where  Bob  was  to 
meet  them. 

"  It's  a  fine  place  for  a  girl  to  have,"  said  Iver, 
stirred  to  a  sudden  sense  of  the  beauty  of  the  old  house 
as  it  came  into  view. 

They  were  all  silent  for  a  moment.  Such  a  place  to 
have,  such  a  place  to  lose  !     Neeld  heard  Mrs  Iver 

[362] 


A   Business   Call 

sighing  in  her  good-natured  motherly  fashion.  But 
still  Harry  was  not  mentioned. 

"  And  if  they  had  a  business  man — with  his  head  on 
his  shoulders — to  manage  the  estate,  it'd  be  worth  half 
as  much  again."  This  time  it  was  Iver  who  sighed  ; 
the  idea  of  anything  not  having  all  the  money  made 
out  of  it  that  could  be  made  offended  his  instincts. 

"  She'll  have  a  husband,  dear,"  his  wife  reminded 
him. 

"  I  wonder  if  Bob'll  get  there  before  we  do."  said 
Janie,  with  the  air  of  starting  a  subject  of  real  interest 
in  lieu  of  continuing  idle  talk. 

The  evening  was  hot  and  the  hall-door  of  Blent  stood 
open.  Cecily  was  sitting  in  the  hall,  and  came  out  to 
greet  them.  She  seemed  to  Neeld  to  complete  the  pict- 
ure as  she  stood  there  in  her  young  fairness,  graciously 
welcoming  her  guests.  She  was  pale,  but  wore  a  gay 
air  and  did  the  honors  with  natural  dignity.  No  sign 
of  strangeness  to  the  place,  and  no  embarrassment, 
were  visible. 

"  Oh,  my  dear,  how  you  remind  me  of  Lady  Tris- 
tram !  "  good  Mrs  Iver  broke  out. 

Neeld  pressed  the  girl's  hand  with  a  grip  that  she 
noticed  ;  she  looked  at  him  in  a  sort  of  question  and  for 
a  moment  flushed  a  little. 

"  It's  very  kind  of  you  to  come,"  she  said  to  him 
softly. 

"  How  are  you,  Mr  Neeld  ?  "  The  Imp  had  sud- 
denly darted  out  from  somewhere  and  was  offering  her 
hand.  "  I'm  staying  here,  you  know."  And  in  a 
whisper  she  added,  "  That  young  man  of  Janie's  has 
been  here  a  quarter  of  an  hour,  and  Cecily  wasn't 
dressed,  and  I've  had  to  talk  to  him.  Oh,  dear  !  "  She 
had  her  hand  on  his  arm  and  drew  him  apart.  "  Any 
news  of  Harry  Tristram  ?  "  she  whispered. 

"  Er — no — none." 

I  363] 


Tristram  of  Ble'nt 

Her  quick  eyes  looked  at  him  in  suspicion  ;  he  had 
hesitated  a  little. 

"  You've  seen  him?  "  she  asked. 

"  Just  casually,  Madame  Zabriska."' 

She  turned  away  with  a  peevish  little  pout.  "  Then 
you're  not  very  interesting,"  she  seemed  to  say.  But 
Neeld  forgave  her  :  she  had  asked  him  about  Harry. 
He  could  forgive  more  easily  because  he  had  deluded 
her. 

Addie    Tristram's  picture    was  at  one    end  of  the 
dining-room  now,  and  Cecily's  place  was  under  it. 
,.  "  My  first  dinner-party!  Although  it's  a  small  one," 
she  said  to  Iver  as  she  sat  down. 

"  Your  first  at  Blent  ?  " 

"  The  first  anywhere — actually  !  "  she  laughed,  and 
then  grew  thoughtful  for  a  moment,  glancing  out  into 
the  dark  and  listening  to  the  flap  of  a  bat's  wing 
against  the  window. 

"  You'll  have  plenty  now,"  said  he,  as  he  watched 
lier  admiringly.  He  forgot,  man  that  he  was,  that 
girls  do  not  find  permanent  happiness  in  dinner- 
parties. 

It  was  evident  that  Neeld  ought  never  to  have  come 
to  Blent  that  evening.  For  the  talk  was  of  futures, 
and,  out  of  deference  to  the  young  hostess,  even  more 
of  hers  than  of  the  engaged  couple's.  Theirs  indeed 
was  not  provocative  of  discussion  ;  if  satisfactory,  it 
was  also  obvious.  Cecily's  opened  more  topics,  and 
she  herself  was  willing  and  seemed  even  eager  to  dis- 
cuss it.  She  fell  in  with  Mrs  Tver's  suggestion  that  she 
ought  to  be  a  centre  of  good  works  in  the  district,  and 
in  pursuance  of  this  idea  should  accept  the  position 
of  Patron  to  Miss  Swinkerton's  complicated  scheme  of 
benevolence.  She  agreed  with  Iver  that  the  affairs  of 
the  estate  probably  wanted  overhauling,  and  that  a 
capable  man  should  be  engaged  for  the  task,  even  at 

[364] 


A  Business   Call 

some  expense.  She  professed  herself  ready  to  co- 
operate with  Bob  in  protecting  the  fishing  of  the  Blent. 
She  was,  in  a  word,  very  much  the  proprietor.  It  was 
difficult  for  Neeld  to  sit  and  hear  all  this.  And  op- 
posite to  him  sat  Mina  Zabriska,  rather  silent  and 
demure,  but  losing  no  chance  of  reminding  him  by  a 
stealthy  glance  that  this  ordinary  talk  covered  a  re- 
markable situation — as  indeed  it  did,  but  not  of  the 
precise  nature  that  Mina  supposed.  Neeld  felt  as 
though  he  were  behind  the  scenes  of  fate's  theatre,  and 
he  did  not  find  the  place  comfortable.  He  saw  the  next 
tableau  in  preparation  and  had  to  ask  himself  what  its 
effect  would  be  on  an  unsuspecting  audience.  He  came 
to  the  conclusion  that  foreknowledge  was  an  attribute 
not  likely  to  make  human  beings  happy  ;  it  could  not 
easily  make  terms  with  sympathy. 

When  dessert  was  on  the  table,  Iver,  true  to  his 
habits  and  traditions,  felt  that  it  was  the  occasion  for  a 
few  friendly  informal  words ;  the  birthday  and  the  ma- 
joritv  of  young  Lady  Tristram  demanded  so  much  rec- 
ognition. Admirably  concise  and  simple  in  ordinary 
conversation,  he  became,  like  so  many  of  his  country- 
men, rather  heavy  and  pompous  when  he  got  on  his  legs. 
Yet  he  made  what  everybody  except  Mina  Zabriska 
considered  a  very  appropriate  little  speech.  Gains- 
borough grew  quite  enthusiastic  over  it  ;  and  Neeld 
thought  it  was  wonderfully  good  (if  it  had  not  hap- 
l)cned,  of  course,  to  be  by  force  of  circumstances  an 
absurdity  from  beginning  to  end).  Cecily  was  content 
to  say.  "  Thank  you,"  but  her  father  could  not  refuse 
himself  the  privilege  of  reply  ;  the  reply  was  on  her  be- 
half, but  it  was  mainly  about  himself — also  a  not  un- 
common characteristic  of  after-dinner  oratory.  How- 
ever he  agreed  with  Iver  that  everything  was  for  the 
best,  and  that  they  were  entitled  to  congratulate  their 
hostess  and  themselves  on  things  at  large.    Then  Neeld 

[365] 


Tristram  <?/  Blent 

had  a  turn  over  the  engagement  (a  subject  dull  but 
safe  !)  and  the  proceedings  were  stopped  only  by  Bob 
Broadley's  headlong  flight  when  the  question  of  his  re- 
sponse arose. 

"Thank  goodness,  that's  over!"  said  Mina  snap- 
pishly, as  she  stepped  out  into  the  garden,  followed  by 
Mr  Neeld.  The  rest  went  ofl  to  see  the  treasures  of 
the  Long  Gallery.  Mina  turned  to  him  with  a  quick 
question :    "  You  saw  Mr  Tristram,  how  is  he?  " 

"  Harry  Tristram  is  quite  well  and  in  very  good 
spirits.     I  never  saw  a  man  better  in  my  life." 

Mina  was  silent  for  a  moment.  Then  she  broke 
out:  "  I  call  it  disgusting.  He's  in  good  spirits,  and 
she's  in  good  spirits,  and — and  there's  an  end  of  it,  I 
suppose  !    The  next  thing  will  be " 

"  It's  not  the  end  if  there's  a  next  thing,"  Neeld 
suggested  timidly. 

"  Oh,  don't  be  tiresome.  The  next  thing'U  be  some 
stupid  girl  for  him  and  some  idiot  of  a  man  for  her. 
How  I  wish  I'd  never  come  to  Merrion !  " 

"  Don't  despair ;  things  may  turn  out  better  than 
you  think." 

"  They  can't,"  she  declared  fretfully.  "  I  shall  go 
away." 

"  What  a  pity !  Miss  Gainsborough — Lady  Tris- 
tram, I  mean — will  miss  you  so  much." 

"  Let  her!  "  said  the  Imp  ungraciously.  "  I've  put 
myself  out  enough  about  the  Tristrams." 

Neeld  forbore  to  remind  her  of  the  entirely  volun- 
tary nature  of  her  sacrifices ;  after  all  he  was  not  the 
man  to  throw  stones  on  that  account. 

"  Wait  a  few  days  anyhow,"  he  urged  her.  In  a 
few  days  something  must  happen. 

"  A  few  days  ?  Oh,  yes  !  "  As  a  matter  of  fact  she 
meant  to  stay  all  the  winter.  "  She's  started,"  she  went 
on,  with  an  irritated  jerk  of  her  head  toward  the  Long 

[366] 


A   Business   Call 

Gallery,  "  putting  all  the  things  in  different  places  and 
rearranging  everything." 

"  I  should  imagine  that  Mr  Gainsborough's  enjoy- 
ing himself  then  ?  " 

"  She  doesn't  let  him  touch  a  thing,"  replied  Mina 
with  a  fleeting  smile.  "  He  just  stands  about  with  a 
duster.  That  contents  him  well  enough,  though.  Oh, 
yes,  I  shall  go.  The  Broadleys  won't  care  about  me, 
and  Cecily  won't  want  me  long." 

Neeld  could  give  real  comfort  only  at  the  price  of 
indiscretion.  Moreover  he  was  not  at  all  sure  that  a 
disclosure  of  the  truth  would  bring  any  comfort,  for 
Mina  wanted  to  be  on  both  sides  and  to  harmonize 
devotion  to  Cecily  with  zeal  for  Harry.  Neeld  did 
not  quite  see  how  this  was  to  be  done,  since  it  was 
understood  that  as  Harry  would  take  nothing  from 
Cecily,  so  Cecily  would  refuse  anything  from  Harry. 

"  We  must  wait  and  see  how  it  all  turns  out,"  said 
he. 

"  I  hate  people  who  say  that,"  grumbled  Mina  dis- 
consolately. "  And  I  do  think  that  the  Ivers  have 
grown  extraordinarily  stupid — caught  it  from  Bob 
Broadley,  I  suppose." 

When  injustice  springs  not  from  judgment  but  from 
temper,  it  is  not  worth  arguing  against.  Neeld  held  his 
tongue  and  they  sat  silent  on  the  seat  by  the  river, 
looking  across  to  Merrion  and  hearing  the  voices  of 
their  friends  through  the  open  windows  of  the  Long 
Gallery. 

Presently  there  came  to  them  through  the  stillness  of 
the  night  the  sound  of  wheels,  not  on  the  Blentmouth 
side,  but  up  the  valley,  on  the  Mingham  and  Filling- 
ford  road.  The  somid  ceased  without  the  appearance 
of  any  vehicle,  but  it  had  reminded  Neeld  of  the  prog- 
ress of  time. 

"  Tt  must  be  getting  late,"  he  said,  rising.    "  I'll  go 

[367] 


Tristram  ^^  Blent 

and  see  if  they  think  of  starting  home.  Did  you  hear 
wheels  on  the  road — toward  the  Pool?" 

"  Bob  Broadley's  cart  coming  for  him,  I  suppose." 

"  No,  I  don't  think  so.  He's  going  back  to  Fair- 
holme  with  us.    I  heard  him  say  so." 

Mina  was  languidly  indifferent,  and  Mr  Neeld  trot- 
ted ofif  into  the  house.  Mina  sat  on,  frowning  at  the  idea 
that  in  a  few  minutes  she  would  have  to  go  in  and  say 
good-by ;  for  the  voices  came  no  more  from  the  Long 
Gallery  and  she  heard  the  guests  laughing  and  chat- 
tering in  the  hall,  as  they  prepared  for  departure.  Sud- 
denly she  discerned  the  figure  of  a  man  coming  into 
sight  across  the  river.  He  walked  slowly,  as  it  seemed 
stealthily,  till  he  came  to  the  end  of  the  footbridge. 
Then  he  halted  and  looked  up  at  the  house.  It  was 
gayly  lighted.  After  waiting  a  moment  the  man  turned 
back  and  disappeared  up  the  road  in  the  direction  of 
Mingham.  Mina  rose  and  strolled  to  the  bridge.  She 
crossed  it  and  looked  up  the  road.  She  could  make 
out  dimly  the  stranger's  retreating  form. 

She  heard  Cecily  calling  to  her,  and  ran  back  to  the 
house.  A  wonderful  idea  had  come  into  her  liead,  born 
of  a  vaguely  familiar  aspect  that  the  bearing  of  the 
man  had  for  her.  But  she  laughed  at  it,  telling  her- 
self that  it  was  all  nonsense ;  and  as  she  joined  in  the 
talk  and  farewells  it  grew  faint  and  was  almost  for- 
gotten.   Yet  she  whispered  to  old  Neeld  with  a  laugh : 

"  I  saw  a  man  on  the  road  just  now  who  looked 
rather  like  Harry.  I  couldn't  see  him  properly,  you 
know." 

Neeld  started  and  looked  at  her  with  obvious  ex- 
citement. She  repaid  his  stare  with  one  of  equal 
intensity. 

"Why,    you    don't    think ?"    she    began    in 

amazement. 

"  Come,  Neeld,  we're  waiting  for  you,"  cried  Iver 

[368] 


A   Business   Call 

from  the  wagonette,  while  Bob  in  irrepressible  spirits 
burst  into  song  as  he  gathered  up  the  reins.  He  had 
deposed  the  coachman  and  had  Janie  with  him  on  the 
box. 

They  drove  off,  waving  their  hands  and  shouting 
good-night.  Mina  ran  a  little  way  after  them  and  saw 
Neeld  turning  his  head  this  way  and  that,  as  though 
he  thought  there  might  be  something  to  see.  When 
she  returned  she  found  Gainsborough  saying  good- 
night to  his  daughter ;  at  the  same  moment  the  lights 
in  the  Long  Gallery  were  put  out.  Cecily  slipped  her 
arm  through  hers  and  they  walked  out  again  into  the 
garden.  After  three  or  four  minutes  the  wagonette, 
having  made  the  circuit  necessary  to  reach  the  carriage- 
bridge,  drove  by  on  the  road  across  the  river,  with 
more  waving  of  hands  and  shouts  of  good-night.  An 
absolute  stillness  came  as  the  noise  of  its  wheels  died 
away. 

"I've  got  through  that  all  right,"  said  Cecily  with 
a  laugh,  drawing  her  friend  with  her  toward  the 
bridge.  "  I  suppose  I  shall  be  quite  accustomed  to  it 
soon." 

They  went  on  to  the  bridge  and  halted  in  the  middle 
of  it,  by  a  common  impulse  as  it  seemed. 

*'  The  sound  of  a  river  always  says  to  me  that  it 
all  doesn't  matter  much,"  Cecily  went  on,  leaning  on 
the  parapet.  "  I  believe  that's  been  expressed  more 
poetically !  " 

"  It's  great  nonsense,  however  it's  expressed,"  ob- 
served Mina  scornfully. 

"  I  sometimes  feci  as  if  it  was  true."  Probably 
Cecily  thought  that  nobody — no  girl — no  girl  in  love — 
had  ever  had  the  feeling  before.  A  delusive  appear- 
ance of  novelty  is  one  of  the  most  dangerous  weapons 
of  Cupid.  But  Mina  was  an  experienced  woman — 
had  been  married  too  ! 

[369] 


Tristram   <?/' Blent 

"  Don't  talk  stuff,  my  dear/'  she  cried  crossly.  "  And 
why  are  we  standing  on  this  horrid  little  bridge?  " 

She  turned  round ;  Cecily  still  gazed  in  melancholy 
abstraction  into  the  stream.  Cecily,  then,  faced  down 
the  valley,  Mina  looked  up  it ;  and  at  the  moment  the 
moon  showed  a  quarter  of  her  face  and  illuminated  a 
streak  of  the  Fillingford  road. 

The  man  was  there.  He  was  there  again.  The 
moonlight  fell  on  his  face.  He  smiled  at  Mina,  pointed 
a  hand  toward  Blentmouth,  and  smiled  again.  He 
seemed  to  mock  the  ignorance  of  the  vanished  wagon- 
ette. Mina  made  no  sign.  He  laid  his  finger  on  his 
lips,  and  nodded  slightly  toward  Cecily.  The  clouds 
covered  the  moon  again,  and  there  was  no  more  on 
the  Fillingford  road  than  a  black  blotch  on  the  deep 
gray  of  the  night ;  even  this  vanished  a  moment  after. 
And  still  Cecily  gazed  down  into  the  Blent. 

Presently  she  turned  round.  "  I  suppose  we  must 
go  in,"  she  said  grudgingly.  "  It's  getting  rather 
chilly."  They  were  both  in  low-cut  frocks,  and  had 
come  out  without  any  wraps.  With  the  intuition  of  a 
born  schemer  Mina  seized  on  the  chance. 

"  Oh,  it's  so  lovely!  "  she  cried,  with  an  apparently 
overwhelming  enthusiasm  for  nature.  "  Too  perfectl> 
lovely!  I'll  run  in  and  get  some  cloaks.  Wait  here 
till  I  come  back,  Cecily." 

"  Well,  don't  be  long,"  said  Cecily,  crossing  her  bare 
arms  with  a  little  shiver. 

Off  the  Imp  ran,  and  vanished  into  the  house.  But 
she  made  no  search  for  wraps.  After  a  moment's  hesi- 
tation in  the  hall,  the  deceitful  creature  ran  into  the 
library.  All  was  dark  there  :  a  window  was  open  and 
showed  the  bridge,  with  Cecily's  figure  on  it  making  a 
white  blur  in  the  darkness.  Mina  crouched  on  the 
window-sill  and  waited.  The  absolute  unpardonable- 
ness  of  her  conduct  occurred  to  her ;  with  a  smile  she 

[370] 


A   Business   Call 

dismissed  the  consideration.  He — and  she — who  de- 
sires the  end  must  needs  put  up  with  the  means ;  it  is 
all  the  easier  when  the  means  happen  to  be  uncom- 
monly thriUing. 

Harry  was  humbled !  That  was  the  conclusion 
which  shot  through  her  mind.  What  else  could  his 
coming  mean?  If  it  meant  less  than  that,  it  was  mere 
cruelty.  If  it  meant  that A  keen  pang  of  dis- 
appointment shot  through  her.  It  was  the  only  w^ay 
to  what  she  desired,  but  it  was  not  the  way  which 
she  would  have  preferred  him  to  tread.  Yet  because 
it  was  the  only  way,  she  wished  it — with  the  reservation 
that  it  would  have  been  nuich  better  if  it  could  have 
happened  in  some  other  fashion.  But  anyhow  the  po- 
sition, not  to  say  her  position,  had  every  element  of 
excitement.  "  Poor  old  Mr  Neeld !  "  she  murmured 
once.  It  was  hard  on  him  to  miss  this.  At  the  mo- 
ment Neeld  was  smiling  over  the  ignorance  in  which 
he  had  been  bound  to  keep  her.  It  is  never  safe  to 
suppose,  however  pleasant  it  may  be  to  believe,  that 
nobody  is  pitying  us ;  either  of  his  knowledge  or  of 
his  ignorance  someone  is  always  at  it. 

She  started  violently  and  turned  round.  The  butler 
was  there,  candle  in  hand. 

"  Is  her  Ladyship  still  out,  ma'am?"  he  asked,  ad- 
vancing. "  I  was  going  to  lock  up."  He  was  hardly 
surprised  to  find  her — they  knew  she  was  odd — and 
would  not  have  shown  it,  if  he  had  been. 

"  Oh,  go  to  bed,"  she  cried  in  a  low  voice.  "  We'll 
lock  up.    We  don't  want  anything,  anything  at  all." 

"  Very  good.    Good-night,  ma'arn." 

What  an  escape !  Suppose  Cecily  had  seen  her  at 
the  window ! 

But  Cecily  was  not  looking  at  the  window.  She 
moved  to  the  far  end  of  the  bridge  and  stood  gazing 
up  toward  Merrion,  where  one  light  twinkled  in  an 

[371I 


Tristram  ^' Blent 

upper  room.  Mina  saw  her  stretch  out  her  arms  for  a 
moment  toward  the  sky.  What  had  happened?  It 
was  impossible  that  he  had  gone  away !  Mina  craned 
her  head  out  of  the  window,  looking  and  listening. 
Happen  what  might,  be  the  end  of  it  what  it  might, 
this  situation  was  deliciouslv  strong  of  the  Tristrams. 
They  were  redeeming  their  characters ;  they  had  not 
settled  down  into  the  ordinary  or  been  gulfed  in  the 
slough  of  the  commonplace.  Unexpected  appearances 
and  midnight  interviews  of  sentimental  moment  were 
still  to  be  hoped  for  from  them.  There  was  not  yet  an 
end  of  all. 

He  came ;  Mina  saw  his  figure  on  the  road,  at  first 
dimly,  then  with  a  sudden  distinctness  as  a  gleam  of 
moonlight  shone  out.  He  stood  a  little  way  up  the 
road  to  Cecily's  right.  She  did  not  see  him  yet,  for 
she  looked  up  to  Merrion.  He  took  a  step  forward, 
his  tread  sounding  loud  on  the  road.  There  was  a 
sudden  turn  of  Cecily's  head.  A  moment's  silence  fol- 
lowed. He  came  up  to  her,  holding  out  his  hand.  She 
drew  back,  shrinking  from  it.  Laying  her  hands  on 
the  gate  of  the  bridge,  she  seemed  to  set  it  as  a  fence 
between  them.  Her  voice  reached  Mina's  ears,  low,  yet 
as  distinct  as  though  she  had  been  by  her  side,  and 
full  of  a  terrified  alarm  and  a  bitter  reproach. 
"  You  here  !  Oh,  you  promised,  you  promiised  !  " 
With  a  bound  Mina's  conscience  awoke.  She  had 
heard  what  no  ears  save  his  had  any  right  to  hear. 
What  if  she  were  found?  The  conscience  was  not 
above  asking  that,  but  it  was  not  below  feeling  an  in- 
tolerable shame  even  without  the  discovery  that  it  sug- 
gested as  her  punishment.  Blushing  red  there  in  the 
dark,  she  slipped  from  the  window-seat  and  groped 
her  way  to  a  chair.  Here  she  flung  herself  down  with 
a  sob  of  excitement  and  emotion.  He  had  promised. 
And  the  promise  was  broken  in  his  coming. 

[372] 


A   Business  Call 

Now  she  heard  their  steps  on  the  path  outside  ;  they 
were  walking  toward  the  house.  Telhng  herself  that 
it  was  impossible  for  her  to  move  now,  for  fear  she 
should  encounter  them,  she  sank  lower  in  her  arm- 
chair. 

"  Well,  where  shall  we  go  ?  "  she  heard  Cecily  ask  in 
cold,  stiff  tones. 

"  To  the  Long  Gallery,"  said  Harry. 

The  next  moment  old  Mason  the  butler  was  in  the 
room  again,  this  time  in  great  excitement. 

"  There's  someone  in  the  garden  with  her  Ladyship, 
ma'am,"  he  cried.     "  I  think — I  think  it's  my  Lord!  " 

"  Who  ?  "  asked  Mina,  sitting  up,  feigning  to  be 
calm  and  sleepy. 

"  Mr  Harrv,  I  mean,  ma'am." 

"  Oh  !    Well  then,  go  and  see." 

The  old  man  turned  and  went  out  into  the  hall. 

"  How  are  you.  Mason  ?  "  she  heard  Harry  say. 
"  Her  Ladyship  and  I  have  some  business  to  talk 
about.     May  I  have  a  sandwich  afterward  ?  " 

There  he  was,  spoiling  the  drama,  in  Mina's  humble 
opinion!     Who  should  think  of  sandwiches  now? 

"  Do  what  Mr  Tristram  says.  Mason,"  said  Cecily. 

She  heard  them  begin  to  mount  the  stairs.  Jumping 
up,  she  ran  softly  to  the  door  and  out  into  the  hall. 
Alason  stood  there  with  his  candle,  staring  up  after 
Cecily  and  Harry.  He  turned  to  Mina  with  a  quizzical 
smile  wrinkling  his  good-natured  face. 

"  You'd  think  it  a  funny  time  for  business,  wouldn't 
you,  ma'am  ?  "  he  asked.  He  paused  a  moment,  strok- 
ing his  chin.  "  Unless  you'd  happened  to  be  in  service 
twenty  years  with  her  late  Ladyship.  Well,  I'm  glad 
to  see  him  again,  anyhow." 

"  What  shall  we  do?  "  whispered  Mina.  "  Are  you 
going  to  bed.  Mason?  " 

"  Not  me,  ma'am.    Why,  I  don't  know  what  mayn't 

[373] 


Tristram   oJ^  Blent 

happen  before  the  morning!  "  He  shook  his  head  in 
humorous  commentary  on  those  he  had  served.  "  But 
there's  no  call  for  you  to  sit  up,  ma'am." 

"  I'll  thank  you  to  mind  your  own  business,  Mason," 
said  the  Imp  indignantly.  "  It  would  be  most — most 
improper  if  I  didn't  sit  up.    Why,  it's  nearly  midnight !  " 

"  They  won't  think  of  that  up  there,"  said  he. 

The  sound  of  a  door  slammed  came  from  upstairs. 
Mina's  eyes  met  Mason's  for  a  moment  by  an  involun- 
tary impulse,  then  hastily  turned  away.  It  is  an  excel- 
lent thing  to  be  out  of  the  reach  of  temptation.  The 
door  was  shut ! 

"  Give  me  a  candle  here  in  the  library,"  said  Mina 
with  all  her  dignity.  And  there,  in  the  library,  she 
sat  down  to  wonder  and  to  wait. 

Mason  went  ofi  after  the  sandwiches,  smiling  still. 
There  was  really  nothing  odd  in  it,  when  once  you 
were  accustomed  to  the  family  ways. 


[374] 


XXVII 

Before    Translation 

HARRY  TRISTRAIM  had  come  back  to  Blent 
in  the  mood  which  belonged  to  the  place  as  of 
old — the  mood  that  claimed  as  his  right  what  had 
become  his  by  love,  knew  no  scruples  if  only  he  could 
gain  and  keep  it,  was  ready  to  play  a  bold  game  and 
take  a  great  chance.  He  did  not  argue  about  what  he 
was  going  to  do.  He  did  not  justify  it,  and  perhaps 
could  not.  Yet  to  him  what  he  purposed  was  so  clearly 
the  best  thing  that  Cecily  must  be  forced  into  it.  She 
could  not  be  forced  by  force  ;  if  he  told  her  the  truth,  he 
would  meet  at  the  outset  a  resistance  which  he  could 
not  quell.  He  might  encounter  that  after  all,  later  on, 
in  spite  of  a  present  success.  That  was  the  great  risk 
he  was  determined  to  run.  At  the  worst  there  would 
be  something  gained  ;  if  she  were  and  would  be  noth- 
ing else,  she  should  and  must  at  least  be  mistress  of 
Blent.  His  imagination  had  set  her  in  that  place ;  his 
pride,  no  less  than  his  love,  demanded  it  for  her.  He 
had  gone  away  once  that  she  might  have  it.  If  need 
be,  again  he  would  go  away.  That  stood  for  decision 
later. 

She  walked  slowly  to  the  end  of  the  Long  Gallery 
and  sat  down  in  the  great  arm-chair;  it  held  its  old 
position  in  spite  of  the  changes  which  Harry  noted 
with  quick  eyes  and  a  suppressed  smile  as  he  followed 
her  and  set  his  candle  on  a  table  near.  He  lit  two 
more  from  it  and  then  turned  to  her.  She  was  pale 
and  defiant. 

[375] 


Tristram  <9/^  Blent 

"  Well,"  she  said,  "  why  are  you  here?  " 

She  asked  and  he  gave  no  excuse  for  the  untimely 
hour  of  his  visit  and  no  explanation  of  it.  It  seemed  a 
small,  perhaps  indeed  a  natural,  thing  to  both  of  them. 

"  I'm  here  because  I  couldn't  keep  away,"  he  an- 
swered gravely,  standing  before  her. 

*'  You  promised  to  keep  away.  Can't  you  keep 
promises?  " 

"  No,  not  such  prom.ises  as  that." 

"  And  so  you  make  my  life  impossible !  You  see 
this  room,  you  see  how  I've  changed  it?  I've  been 
changing  everything  I  could.  Why?  To  forget  you, 
to  blot  you  out,  to  be  rid  of  you.  I've  been  bringing 
myself  to  take  my  place.  To-night  I  seemed  at  last 
to  be  winning  my  way  to  it.  Now  you  come.  You 
gave  me  all  this ;  why  do  you  make  it  impossible  to 
me  ?  "  A  bright  color  came  on  her  cheeks  now  as  she 
grew  vehement  in  her  reproaches,  and  her  voice  was 
intense,  though  low. 

A  luxury  of  joy  swept  over  him  as  he  listened.  Every 
taunt  witnessed  to  his  power,  every  reproach  to  her 
love.  He  played  a  trick  indeed  and  a  part,  but  there 
was  no  trick  and  no  acting  in  so  far  as  he  was  her 
lover.  If  that  truth  could  not  redeem  his  deception,  it 
stifled  all  sense  of  guilt. 

"  And  you  were  forgetting  ?  You  were  getting  rid 
of  me?  "  he  asked,  smiling  and  fixing  his  eyes  on  her. 

"  Perhaps.    And  now !  "    She  made  a  gesture  of 

despair.  "  Tell  me — why  have  you  come?  "  Her  tone 
changed  to  entreaty. 

"  I've  come  because  I  must  be  where  you  are,  because 
I  was  mad  to  send  you  away  before,  mad  not  to  come 
to  you  before,  to  think  I  could  live  without  you,  not  to 
see  that  we  two  must  be  together;  because  you're 
everything  to  me."  He  had  come  nearer  to  her  now 
and  stood  by  her.     "  Ever  since  I  went  away  I  have 

[376] 


Before  Translation 

seen  you  in  this  room,  in  that  chair.  I  think  it  was 
your  ghost  only  that  came  to  town."  He  laughed  a 
moment.  '"  I  wouldn't  have  the  ghost.  I  didn't  know 
why.  Now  I  know.  I  wanted  the  you  that  was  here — 
the  real  you — as  you  had  been  on  the  night  I  went 
away.  So  I've  come  back  to  you.  We're  ourselves 
here,  Cecily.    We  Tristrams  are  ourselves  at  Blent." 

She  had  listened  silently,  her  eyes  on  his.  She 
seemed  bewildered  by  the  sudden  rush  of  his  passion 
and  the  enraptured  eagerness  of  his  words  that  made 
her  own  vehemence  sound  to  her  poor  and  thin.  Pride 
had  its  share  in  her  protest,  love  was  the  sole  spring 
of  his  intensity.  Yet  she  was  puzzled  by  the  victorious 
light  in  his  eyes.  What  he  said,  what  he  came  to  do, 
was  such  a  surrender  as  she  had  never  hoped  from 
him  ;   and  he  was  triumphant  in  surrendering ! 

The  thought  flashed  through  her  mind,  troubling 
her  and  for  the  time  hindering  her  joy  in  his  confession. 
She  did  not  trust  him  yet. 

"  I've  had  an  oi¥er  made  to  me,"  he  resumed,  regain- 
ing his  composure.  "  A  sort  of  political  post.  If  I 
accept  it  I  shall  have  to  leave  England  for  a  consider- 
able time,  almost  immediately.  That  brought  the  thing 
to  a  point."  Again  he  laughed.  "  It's  important  to 
you  too ;  because  if  you  say  no  to  me  to-night,  you'll 
be  rid  of  me  for  ever  so  long.  Your  life  won't  be  made 
impossible.    I  shouldn't  come  to  Blent  again." 

"A  post  that  would  take  you  away?"  she  mur- 
mured. 

"  Yes.  You'd  be  left  here  in  peace.  I've  not  come 
to  blackmail  you  into  loving  me,  Cecily.  Yes,  you 
shall  be  left  in  peace  to  move  the  furniture  about." 
Glancing  toward  the  table,  he  saw  Mr  Gainsborough's 
birthday  gift.  He  took  it  up,  looked  at  it  for  a  mo- 
ment, and  then  replaced  it.  His  manner  was  involun- 
tarily expressive.     Even  if  she  brought  that  sort  of 

[377J 


Tristram  oJ  Blent 

thing  to  Blent !    He  turned  back  at  the  sound  of 

a  Uttle  laugh  from  Cecily  and  found  her  eyes  sparkling". 

"  Father's  birthday  present,  Harry,"  said  she. 

Delighted  with  her  mirth,  he  came  to  her,  holding  out 
his  hands.  She  shook  her  head  and  leant  back,  look- 
ing at  him. 

"  Sit  as  my  mother  did.  You  know.  Yes,  like 
that !  "  he  cried. 

She  had  obeyed  him  with  a  smile.  Not  to  be  denied 
now,  he  seized  the  hand  that  lay  in  her  lap. 

"  A  birthday  !  Yes,  of  course,  you're  twenty-one ! 
Really  mistress  of  it  all  now !  And  you  don't  know 
what  to  do  with  it,  except  spoil  the  arrangement  of 
the  furniture?  " 

She  laughed  low  and  luxuriously.  ''  What  am  I  to 
do  with  it  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  Well,  won't  you  give  it  all  to  me?  "  As  he  spoke 
he  laughed  and  kissed  her  hand.  "  I've  come  to  ask 
vou  for  it.  Here  I  am.  I've  come  fortune-hunting  to- 
night." 

■'  It's  all  mine  now,  you  say  ?  Harry,  take  it  without 
me," 

"  If  I  did,  I'd  burn  it  to  the  ground  that  it  mightn't 
remind  me  of  you." 

"Yes,  yes!  That's  what  I've  wanted  to  do!"  she 
exclaimed,  drawing  her  hand  out  of  his  and  raising 
her  arms  a  moment  in  the  air.  Addie  Tristram's  pose 
was  gone,  but  Harry  did  not  miss  it  now. 

"  Take  it  without  you  indeed !  It's  all  for  you  and 
because  of  you." 

"  Really,  really  ?  "  She  grew  grave.  "  Harry,  dear, 
for  pity's  sake  tell  me  if  you  love  me !  " 

"  Haven't  I  told  you  ?  "  he  cried  gayly.  "  Where  are 
the  poets  ?  Oh,  for  some  good  quotations !  I'm  in- 
fernally unpoetical,  I  know.  Is  this  it — that  you're  al- 
ways before  my  eyes,  always  in  my  head,  that  you're 

[378J 


Before  Translation 

terribly  in  the  way,  that  when  I've  got  anything  worth 
thinking  I  think  it  to  you,  anything  worth  doing 
I  do  it  for  you,  anything  good  to  say  I  say  it 
to  you?  Is  this  it,  that  I  curse  myself  and  curse  you? 
Is  this  it,  that  I  know  rhyself  only  as  your  lover  and 
that  if  I'm  not  that,  then  I  seem  nothing  at  all?  I've 
never  been  in  love  before,  but  all  that  sounds  rather 
like  it." 

"  And  you'll  take  Blent  from  me?  " 

"  Yes,  as  the  climax  of  all,  I'll  take  Blent  from 
you." 

To  her  it  seemed  the  chmax,  the  thing  she  found 
hardest  to  believe,  the  best  evidenc.  for  the  truth  of 
those  extravagant  words  which  sounded  so  sweet  in 
her  ears.  Harry  saw  this,  but  he  held  on  his  way. 
Nay,  now  he  himself  forgot  his  trick,  and  could  still 
have  gone  on  had  there  been  none,  had  he  in  truth 
been  accepting  Blent  from  her  hands.  Even  at  the 
price  of  pride  he  would  have  had  her  now. 

She  rose  suddenly,  and  began  to  walk  to  and  fro 
across  the  end  of  the  room,  while  he  stood  by  the  table 
watching  her. 

"  Well,  isn't  it  time  you  said  something  to  me  ?  "  he 
suggested  with  a  smile. 

"  Give  me  time,  Harry,  give  me  time.  The  world's 
all  changed  to-night.  You — yes,  you  came  suddenly 
out  of  the  darkness  of  the  night  " — she  waved  her  hand 
toward  the  window — "  and  changed  the  world  for  me. 
How  am  I  to  believe  it?  And  if  I  can  believe  it. 
what  can  I  say?  Let  me  alone  for  a  minute,  Harry 
dear." 

He  was  well  content  to  wait  and  watch.  All  time 
seemed  before  them,  and  how  better  could  he  fill  it? 
He  seemed  himself  to  suffer  in  this  hour  a  joyful  trans- 
formation ;  to  know  better  why  men  lived  and  loved 
to  live,  to  reach  out  to  the  full  strength  and  the  full 

[379] 


Tristram  of  Blent 

function  of  his  being.  The  world  changed  for  him  as 
he  changed  it  for  her. 

Twice  and  thrice  she  had  paced  the  gallery  before 
she  came  and  stood  opposite  to  him.  She  put  her 
hands  up  to  her  throat,  saying,  "  I'm  stifled — stifled 
with  happiness,  Harry." 

For  answer  he  sprang  forward  and  caught  her  in  his 
arms.  In  the  movement  he  brushed  roughly  against 
the  table ;  there  was  a  little  crash,  and  poor  Mr  Gains- 
borough's birthday  gift  lay  smashed  to  bits  on  the  floor. 
For  the  second  time  their  love  bore  hard  on  Mr  Gains- 
borough's crockery.  Startled  they  turned  to  look,  and 
then  they  both  broke  into  merry  laughter.  The  trump- 
ery thing  had  seemed  a  sign  to  them,  and  now  the  sign 
was  broken.  Their  first  kiss  was  mirthful  over  its 
destruction. 

With  a  sigh  of  joy  she  disengaged  herself  from  him. 

"  That's  settled  then,"  said  Harry.  He  paused  a 
moment.  "  You  had  Janie  and  Bob  Broadley  here  to- 
night? I  saw  them  as  I  lay  hidden  by  the  road.  Does 
that  kind  of  engagement  attract  you,  Cecily?  " 

"  Ours  won't  be  like  that,"  she  said,  laughing  tri- 
umphantly. 

"  Don't  let's  have  one  at  all,"  he  suggested,  coming 
near  to  her  again.  "  Let's  have  no  engagement.  Just 
a  wedding." 

"  What?"  she  cried. 

"  It  must  be  a  beastly  time,"  he  went  on.  "  and  all  the 
talk  there's  been  about  us  will  make  it  more  beastly 
still.  Fancy  Miss  S.  and  all  the  rest  of  them  !  And — 
do  you  particularly  want  to  wait?  What  I  want  is  to 
be  settled  down,  here  with  you." 

Her  eyes  sparkled  as  she  listened  ;  she  was  in  the 
mood,  she  was  of  the  stuff,  for  any  adventure. 

"  I  should  like  to  run  off  with  you  now,"  said  he. 
"  I  don't  want  to  leave  vou  at  all,  vou  see." 

'[380] 


Before  Translation 


{( 


Run  off  now?"  She  gave  a  joyful  little  laugh. 
"  That's  just  what  I  should  Hke  !  " 

"  Then  we'll  do  it,"  he  declared.  "  Well,  to-morrow 
morning  anyhow." 

"  Do  you  mean  it?  "  she  asked. 

"  Do  you  say  no  to  it  ?  " 

She  drew  herself  up  with  pride.  "  I  say  no  to  noth- 
ing that  you  ask  of  me." 

Their  hands  met  again  as  she  declared  her  love  and 
trust.  "  You've  really  come  to  me  ?  "  he  heard  her 
murmur.     "  Back  to  Blent  and  back  to  me  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  he  answered,  smiling.  She  had  brought  into 
his  mind  again  the  truth  she  did  not  know.  He  had  no 
time  to  think  of  it,  for  she  offered  him  her  lips  again. 
The  moment  when  he  might  have  told  her  thus  went 
by.  It  was  but  an  impulse ;  for  he  still  loved  what  he 
was  doing,  and  took  delight  in  the  risks  of  it.  And  he 
could  not  bear  so  to  impair  her  joy.  Soon  she  must 
know,  but  she  should  not  yet  be  robbed  of  her  joy 
that  it  was  she  who  could  bring  him  back  to  Blent. 
For  him  in  his  knowledge,  for  her  in  her  ignorance, 
there  was  an  added  richness  of  pleasure  that  he  would 
not  throw  away,  even  although  now  he  believed  that 
were  the  truth  known  she  would  come  to  him  still. 
Must  not  that  be,  since  now  he,  even  he,  would  come 
to  her,  though  the  truth  had  been  otherwise? 

"  There's  a  train  from  Fillingford  at  eight  in  the 
morning.  I'm  going  back  there  to-night.  I've  got  a  fly 
waiting  by  the  Pool — if  the  man  hasn't  gone  to  sleep 
and  the  horse  run  away.  Will  you  meet  me  there? 
We'll  go  up  to  town  and  be  married  as  soon  as  we  can — 
the  day  after  to-morrow,  I  suppose." 

"And  then ?" 

"  Oh,  then  just  come  back  here.  We  can  go  no- 
where but  here,  Cecily." 

"Just  come  back  and ?" 

[381] 


Tristram  ^Blent 

"  And  let  them  find  it  out,  and  talk,  and  talk,  and 
talk  !  "  he  laughed. 

"  It  would  be  delightful !  "  she  cried. 

"  Nobody  to  know  till  it's  done !  " 

"  Yes,  yes,  I  like  it  like  that.  Not  father  even, 
though?" 

"  You'll  be  gone  before  he's  up.  Leave  a  line  for 
him." 

"  But  I — I  can't  go  alone  with  you." 

"  Why  not?  "  asked  Harry,  seeming  a  trifle  vexed. 

"  I'll  tell  you !  "  she  cried.  "  Let's  take  Mina  with 
us,  Harry !  " 

He  laughed ;  the  Imp  was  the  one  person  whose 
presence  he  was  ready  to  endure.  Indeed  there  would 
perhaps  be  a  piquancy  in  that. 

"  All  right.  An  elopement  made  respectable  by 
Mina !  "  He  had  a  touch  of  scorn  even  for  mitigated 
respectability. 

"  Shall  we  call  her  and  tell  her  now?  " 

"  Well,  are  you  tired  of  this  interview  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know  whether  I  want  it  to  go  on,  or 
whether  I  must  go  and  tell  somebody  about  it." 

"  I  shouldn't  hesitate,"  smiled  Harry. 

"  You  ?  No.  But  I — Oh,  Harry  dear,  I  want  to 
whisper  my  triumph." 

"  But  we  must  be  calm  and  business-like  about  it 
now." 

"  Yes  !  "  She  entered  eagerly  into  the  fun.  "  That'll 
puzzle  Mina  even  more." 

"  We're  not  doing  anything  unusual,"  he  insisted 
with  affected  gravity. 

"  No — not  for  our  family  at  least." 

"  It's  just  the  obvious  thing  to  do." 

"  Oh,  it's  just  the  dehcious  thing  too !  "  She  almost 
danced  in  gayety.    "  Let  me  call  Mina.    Do !  " 

[382] 


Before  Translation 

"  Not  for  a  moment,  as  you  love  me !  Give  me  a 
moment  more." 

"  Oh,  Harry,  there'll  be  no  end  to  that !  " 

"  I  don't  know  why  there  should  be." 

"  We  should  miss  the  train  at  Fillingford !  " 

"  Ah,  if  it  means  that !  " 

"  Or  I  shall  come  sleepy  and  ugly  to  it ;  and  you'd 
leave  me  on  the  platform  and  go  away !  " 

"  Shout  for  Mina — now — without  another  word  !  " 

"  Oh,  just  one  more,"  she  pleaded,  laughing. 

"  I  can't  promise  to  be  moderate." 

"  Come,  we'll  go  and  find  her.  Give  me  your  hand." 
She  caught  his  hand  in  hers,  and  snatched  the  candle 
from  the  table.  She  held  it  high  above  her  head,  look- 
ing round  the  room  and  back  to  his  eyes  again.  "  My 
home  now,  because  my  love  is  here,"  she  said.  "  Mine 
and  yours,  and  yours  and  mine — and  both  the  same 
thing,  Harry,  now." 

He  listened  smiling.  Yes,  it  would  be  the  same  thing 
now. 

There  they  stood  together  for  a  moment,  and  to- 
gether they  sighed  as  they  turned  away.  To  them  the 
room  was  sacred  now,  as  it  had  always  been  beautiful ; 
in  it  their  love  seemed  to  lie  enshrined. 

They  went  downstairs  together  full  of  merriment,  the 
surface  expression  of  their  joy.  "Look  grave,"  ho 
whispered,  setting  his  face  in  a  comical  exaggeration 
of  seriousness.  Cecily  tried  to  obey  and  tumbled  into  a 
gurgle  of  delight. 

"  I  will  directly,"  she  gasped  as  they  came  to  the 
hall.    Mason  stood  there  waiting. 

"  I've  put  the  sandwiches  here,  and  the  old  brown, 
my  Lord." 

Harry  alone  noticed  the  slip  in  his  address — and 
Harry  took  no  notice  of  it. 

"  I  shall  be  glad  to  meet  the  old  brown  again,"  he 

[383] 


Tristram  of  Blent 

said,  smiling.    Mason  gave  the  pair  a  benevolent  glance 
and  withdrew  to  his  quarters. 

Mina  strolled  out  of  the  library  with  an  accidental 
air.  Harry  had  sat  down  to  his  sandwiches  and  old 
brown.    Cecily  ran  across  to  Mina  and  kissed  her. 

"  We're  going  to  be  married  !  "  she  whispered.  She 
had  told  it  all  in  a  sentence ;  yet  she  added ;  "  Oh,  I've 
such  a  heap  of  things  to  tell  you,  Mina !  "  Was  not 
all  that  scene  in  the  Long  Gallery  to  be  reproduced — 
doubtless  only  in  a  faint  adumbration  of  its  real  glory, 
yet  with  a  sense  of  recovering  it  and  living  it  again  ? 

"  No  ?  "  cried  Mina.    "  Oh,  how  splendid  !    Soon  ?  " 

Harry  threw  a  quick  glance  at  Cecily.  She  respond- 
ed by  assuming  a  demure  calmness  of  demeanor. 

"  Not  as  soon  as  we  could  wish,"  said  Harry,  munch- 
ing and  sipping.  "  In  fact,  not  before  the  day  after 
to-morrow,  I'm  afraid,  Madame  Zabriska." 

"The  day  after ?" 

"  What  I  have  always  hated  is  Government  interfer- 
ence. Why  can't  I  be  married  when  I  like?  Why 
have  I  to  get  a  license  and  all  that  nonsense?  Why 
must  I  wait  till  the  day  after  to-morrow?  "  He  grew 
indignant. 

"  It's  past  twelve  now ;  it  is  to-morrow,"  said  Cecily. 

"  Quite  so.  As  you  suggest,  Cecily,  we  could  be 
marrTed  to-day  but  for  these  absurd  restrictions. 
There's  a  train  at  eight  from  Fillingford " 

"  You're  going — both  of  you — by  that  ?  "  Mina 
cried. 

"  I  hope  it  suits  you,  because  we  want  you  to  come 
with  us,  if  you'll  be  so  kind,"  said  Harry. 

''  You  see  it  would  look  just  a  little  unusual  if  we 
went  alone,"  added  Cecily. 

"  And  it's  not  going  to  look  unusual  anyhow?    Are 
you  mad  ?    Or — or  do  you  mean  it  ?  " 
'  "  Don't  you  think  both  may  be  true?  "  asked  Harry. 

[384] 


Before   Translation 

Cecily's  gravity  broke  down.  She  kissed  Mina  again, 
laughing  in  an  abandonment  of  exultation. 

"  Oh,  you're  both  mad !  " 

"  Not  at  all.  You're  judging  us  by  the  standard  of 
your  other  engaged  couple  to-night." 

"  Did  Mr  Neeld  know  anything  about  your  com- 
ing?" ]\Iina  demanded,  with  a  sudden  recollection. 

"  Nothing  at  all.  Did  he  say  anything  to  you  ?  "  For 
a  moment  the  glass  of  old  brown  halted  on  its  way  to 
his  lips,  and  he  glanced  at  Mina  sharply. 

"  No.  But  when  I  asked  him  if  he  had  seen  you  he 
looked — well,  just  rather  funny." 

The  old  brown  resumed  its  progress.  Harry  was 
content. 

"  There's  no  better  meal  than  fresh  sandwiches  and 
old  brown,"  he  observed.  "  You'll  come  with  us,  won't 
you,  and  keep  Cecily  company  at  the  little  house  till 
we  fix  it  up?  " 

Mina  looked  from  one  to  the  other  in  new  amaze- 
ment, with  all  her  old  excited  pleasure  in  the  Tristram 
ways.  They  did  a  thing — and  they  did  not  spoil  it  by 
explanations. 

"  And  Mr  Gainsborough?  "  she  asked. 

"  We're  going  to  leave  a  note  for  father,"  smiled 
Cecily. 

"  You're  always  doing  that,"  objected  Mina. 

"  It  seems  rather  an  early  train  for  Mr  Gains- 
borough," Harry  suggested,  laying  down  his  napkin. 

"  Oh,  why  don't  you  tell  me  something  about  it?" 
cried  Mina  despairingly.  "  But  it's  true  ?  The  great 
thing's  true  anyhow,  isn't  it?  " 

"  Well,  what  do  you  think  I  came  down  from  town 
for?"  inquired  Harry. 

"  And  why  have  we  been  so  Umg  in  the  Gallery. 
Mina?" 

[385] 


Tristram  ^Blent 

"  You've  given  in  then?  "  exclaimed  the  Imp,  point- 
ing a  finger  in  triumph  at  Harry. 

"  Mina,  how  can  you  say  a  thing  like  that?  " 

"  It  looks  as  if  it  were  true  enough,"  admitted  Harry. 
"  Really  I  must  go,"  he  added.  "  I  can't  keep  that  fly 
all  night.  I  shall  see  you  in  the  morning,  Madame 
Zabriska.    Eight  o'clock  at  Fillingford  !  " 

"  I'm  really  to  go  with  you?"  she  gasped. 

"  Yes,  yes,  I  thought  all  that  was  settled,"  said  he, 
rather  impatiently.  "  Bring  a  pretty  frock.  I  want  my 
wedding  to  be  done  handsomely — in  a  style  that  suits 

the  wedding  of "    He  looked  at  Cecily — "  of  Lady 

Tristram  of  Blent." 

"  Cecily,  it's  not  all  a  joke  ?  " 

"  Yes  !  "  cried  Cecily.  "  All  a  delicious  delicious 
joke  !    But  we're  going  to  be  married." 

After  a  moment's  hesitation  Mina  came  across  to 
Harry,  holding  out  her  hands.  "  I'm  glad,  I'm  so 
glad,"  she  murmured,  with  a  little  catch  in  her  voice. 

He  took  her  hands  and  pressed  them ;  he  looked  at 
her  very  kindly,  though  he  smiled  still. 

"Yes,  it  undoes  all  the  mistakes,  doesn't  it?"  he 
said.  "  At  least  I  hope  it  will,"  he  added  the  next  mo- 
ment with  a  laugh. 

"  It's  really  the  only  way  to  be  married,"  declared 
Cecily. 

"  Well,  for  you  people — for  you  extraordinary 
Tristrams — I  dare  say  it  is,"  said  Mina. 

''  You'll  come  ?  "  Cecily  implored. 

"  She  couldn't  keep  away,"  mocked  Harry,  "  She's 
got  to  see  the  end  of  us." 

"  Yes,  and  our  new  beginning.  Oh,  what  Blent's 
going  to  be,  Mina !  If  you  don't  come  with  us  now,  we 
won't  let  you  stay  at  Merrion." 

"  I'm  coming,"  said  Mina.     Indeed  she  would  not 

[386] 


Before  Translation 

have  stayed  away.  If  she  had  needed  further  induce- 
ment the  next  moment  suppHed  it. 

"  You're  to  be  our  only  confidant/'  said  Harry. 

"  Yes !  Till  it's  all  over,  nobody's  to  know  but  you, 
Mina." 

The  Imp  was  hit  on  her  weak  spot.  She  was  tremu- 
lously eager  to  go. 

"  Eight  o'clock !    Oh,  can  we  be  ready,  Cecily?  " 

"  Of  course  we  shall  be  ready,"  said  Cecily  scorn- 
fully. 

Harry  had  taken  his  hat  from  the  table  and  came  up 
to  shake  hands.  He  was  imperturbably  calm  and 
business-like. 

"  Don't  run  it  too  fine,"  he  said.  "  Good-night,  Ma- 
dame Zabriska.'' 

She  gave  him  her  hand  and  he  held  it  for  a  moment. 
He  grew  a  little  grave,  but  there  w'as  still  a  twinkle  in 
his  eye. 

"  You're  a  good  friend,"  he  said.  "  I  shall  come  on 
you  again,  if  I  want  you,  you  know."  He  raised  her 
hand  to  his  lips  and  kissed  it. 

"  I  don't  know  that  I  care  much  about  anything  ex- 
cept you  two,"  stammered  Mina. 

He  gripped  her  hand  again.  She  seemed  well  paid. 
He  held  out  his  hand  to  Cecily.    Mina  understood. 

"  I  shall  be  up  a  little  while,  Cecily.  Come  to  me 
before  you  go  to  bed,"  she  said  ;  and  she  stood  in  the 
hall,  watching  them  as  they  walked  out  together. 
There  was  joy  in  her  heart — ay,  and  envy.  The  two 
brought  tears  to  her  eyes  and  struggled  which  should 
make  the  better  claim  to  them.  "  But  they  do  like 
me !  "  she  said  in  a  plaintive  yet  glad  little  cry,  as  she 
was  left  alone  in  the  silent  old  hall. 

So  still  was  the  night  that  a  man  might  hear  the 
voice  of  his  heart  and  a  girl  the  throb  of  hers.  And 
they  were  alone ;   or  only  the  friendly  murmur  of  old 

[387] 


Tristram   ^/ Blent 

Blent  was  with  them,  seeming  to  whisper  congratu- 
lations on  their  joy.  Her  arm  was  through  his,  very 
white  on  his  sleeve,  and  she  leant  on  him  heavily. 

"  After  tempests,  dear,"  said  he. 

"  There  shall  be  no  more,  no  more,  Harry." 

"  Oh,  I  don't  know  that.  I  shall  like  you  in  them 
perhaps.    And  there  may  be  one  more,  anyhow." 

"  You're  laughing,  Harry  ?  " 

"  Why,  yes,  at  anything  just  now." 

"  Yes,  at  anything,"  she  murmured.  "  I  could  laugh 
— or  cry — at  anything  just  now." 

They  came  to  the  little  bridge  and  passed  on  to  it. 

"  We  talked  here  the  first  evening,"  said  she.  "  And 
how  you  puzzled  me !  It  began  for  me  then,  dear 
Harry." 

"  Yes,  and  for  me  a  little  sooner — by  the  Pool  for 
me.    I  was  keeping  you  out  of  your  own  then." 

"  Never  mine  unless  it  could  be  yours  too." 

Fallen  into  silence  again,  they  reached  the  road  and, 
moved  by  the  same  instinct,  turned  to  look  back  at 
Blent.    The  grip  of  her  hand  tightened  on  his  arm. 

"  There's  nothing  that  would  make  you  leave  me?  " 
she  whispered. 

"  Not  you  yourself,  I  think,"  said  he. 

"  It's  very  wonderful,"  she  breathed.  "  Listen ! 
There's  no  sound.    Yes,  after  tempests,  Harry  !  " 

"  I  am  glad  of  it  all,"  he  said  suddenly  and  in  a  louder 
tone.  "  I've  been  made  a  man,  and  I've  found  you,  the 
woman  for  me.  It  was  hard  at  the  time,  but  I  am 
glad  of  it.  It  has  come  and  it  has  gone,  and  I'm  glad 
of  it." 

He  had  spoken  unwarily  in  saying  it  was  gone.  But 
she  thought  he  spoke  of  his  struggle  only  and  his  hesi- 
tation, not  of  their  cause. 

"  You  gave  when  you  might  have  kept ;  it  is  always 

[388] 


Before   Translation 

yours,  Harry.  Oh,  and  what  is  it  all  now?  No,  no, 
it's  something  still.  It's  in  us — in  us  both,  I 
think." 

He  stopped  on  the  road. 

"  Come  no  farther.  The  fly's  only  a  little  wav  on, 
and  while  I  see  you,  I  will  see  nobody  else  to-night. 
Till  the  morning,  dearest — and  you  won't  fail  ?  " 

"  No,  I  won't  fail.  Should  I  fail  to  greet  my  first 
morning?  " 

He  pushed  the  hair  a  little  back  from  her  forehead 
and  kissed  her  brow. 

"  God  do  so  unto  me  and  more  also  if  my  love  ever 
fails  yon,"  said  he.  "  Kiss  me  as  I  kissed  you.  And  so 
good-night." 

She  obeyed  and  let  him  go.  Once  and  twice  he 
looked  back  at  her  as  he  took  his  way  and  she  stood 
still  on  the  road.  She  heard  his  voice  speaking  to  the 
flyman,  the  flyman's  exhortation  to  his  horse,  the 
sounds  of  the  wheels  receding  along  the  road.  Then 
slowly  she  went  back. 

"  This  is  what  they  mean,"  she  murmured  to  herself. 
"  This  is  what  they  mean."  It  was  the  joy  past  ex- 
pression, the  contentment  past  understanding.  And 
all  in  one  evening  they  had  sprung  up  for  her  out  of 
a  barren  thirsty  land.  Blent  had  never  been  beautiful 
before  nor  the  river  sparkled  as  it  ran ;  youth  was 
not  known  before,  and  beauty  had  been  thrown  away. 
The  world  was  changed  ;  and  it  was  very  wonderful. 

When  Cecily  went  into  her  the  Imp  was  packing; 
with  critical  care  she  stowed  her  smartest  frock  in  the 
trunk. 

"  I  must  be  up  early  and  see  about  the  carriage," 

she  remarked.     "  I  dare  say  Mason .     But  you're 

not  listening,  Cecily  !  " 

"  No,  I  wasn't  listening,"  said  Cecily,  scorning 
apologv  or  excuse. 


Tristram  z^/ Blent 

"  You  people  in  love  are  very  silly.  That's  the  plain 
English  of  it,"  observed  Mina  loftily. 

Cecily  looked  at  her  a  minute,  then  stretched  her 
arms  and  sighed  in  luxurious  weariness.  "  I  dare  say 
that's  the  plain  English  of  it,"  she  admitted.  "  But,  oh, 
how  dififerent  it  sounds  before  translation,  dear !  " 


[390] 


XXVIII 

The  Cat  and  the  Bell 

MR  GAINSBOROUGH  lost  his  head.  He 
might  have  endured  the  note  that  had  been 
left  for  him — it  said  only  that  his  daughter 
had  gone  to  town  for  a  couple  of  days  with  Mina  Za- 
briska;  besides  he  had  had  notes  left  for  him  before. 
But  there  was  Mason's  account  of  the  evening  and  of 
the  morning — of  Harry's  arrival,  of  the  conference  in 
the  Long  Gallery,  of  the  sandwiches  and  the  old  brown, 
of  the  departure  of  the  ladies  at  seven  o'clock.  Mason 
was  convinced  that  something  was  up;  knowing  Mr 
Harry  as  he  did,  and  her  late  Ladyship  as  he  had,  he 
really  would  not  like  to  hazard  an  opinion  what ;  Mr 
Gainsborough,  however,  could  see  for  himself  that  can- 
dles had  been  left  to  burn  themselves  out  and  that  china 
had  been  broken  in  the  Long  Gallery.  Availing  him- 
self dexterously  of  his  subordinate  position,  Mason  was 
open  to  state  facts  but  respectfully  declined  to  draw 
inferences.  Gainsborough  rushed  off  to  the  Long 
Gallery.  There  lay  his  bit  of  Chelsea  on  the  floor — 
upset,  smashed,  not  picked  up  !  There  must  have  been 
a  convulsion  indeed,  he  declared,  as  ruefully  and 
tenderly  he  gathered  the  fragments. 

Quite  off  his  balance  and  forgetful  of  perils,  he  or- 
dered the  pony-chaise  and  had  himself  driven  into 
Blentmouth.  He  felt  that  he  must  tell  somebody,  and 
borrow  some  conclusions — he  was  not  equal  to  mak- 
ing any  of  his  own.    He  must  carry  the  news. 

He  deceived  himself  and  did  gross  injustice  to  the 
neighborhood.     Fillingford  is  but  twelve  miles  inland 

[391 J 


Tristram  of  Blent 

from  Blentmouth,  and  there  are  three  hours  between 
eight  and  eleven.  He  was  making-  for  Fairhohne. 
While  yet  half  a  mile  off  he  overtook  Miss  Swinkerton, 
heading  in  the  same  direction,  ostentatiously  laden 
with  savings-bank  books.  With  much  decision  she 
requested  a  lift,  got  in,  and  told  him  all  about  how 
Harry  had  escorted  Cecily  and  Madame  Zabriska  from 
Fillingford  that  morning.  The  milkman  had  told  the 
butcher,  the  butcher  had  told  the  postman,  the  post- 
man had  told  her,  and — well,  she  had  mentioned  it  to 
Mrs  Trumbler.    Mrs  Trumbler  w'as  at  Fairholme  now. 

"  Mr  Tristram  had  been  staying  with  you,  of  course  ? 
How  nice  to  think  there's  no  feeling  of  soreness  !  "  ob- 
served Miss  S. 

In  Gainsborough  at  least  there  was  no  feeling  save 
of  bewilderment. 

"  Staying  with  us  ?  No,  I  haven't  so  much  as  seen 
him,"  he  stammered  out. 

Immediately  Miss  S.  was  upon  him,  and  by  the  time 
they  reached  Fairholme  had  left  him  with  no  more 
than  a  few  rags  of  untold  details.  Then  with  unrivalled 
effrontery  she  declared  that  she  had  forgotten  to  call 
at  the  srrocer's,  and  marched  ofT.  In  an  hour  the  new 
and  complete  version  of  the  affair  was  all  over  the 
town.  Mrs  Trumbler  had  got  first  to  Fairholme,  but 
she  did  not  wrest  the  laurels  from  Miss  S.'s  brow.  The 
mere  departure  from  Fillingford  shrank  to  nothing  in 
comparison  with  the  attendant  circumstances  suppUed 
by  Mr  Gainsborough. 

''  They  don't  know  what  to  think  at  Fairholme,"  Mrs 
Trumbler  reported. 

"  I  dare  say  not,  my  dear,"  said  Miss  S.  grimly. 

"  They  were  dining  there  that  very  night,  and  not  a 
word  w^as  said  about  it;  and  none  of  them  saw  Mr 
Tristram.  He  came  quite  suddenly,  and  went  off  again 
with  Lady  Tristram." 

[392] 


The   C  a t   a  n  i:>  t he   Bell 

"  And  Mina  Zabriska,  my  dear." 

Mina  complicated  the  case.  Those  who  were  inclined 
to  believe,  against  all  common-sense,  that  Cecily  had 
eloped  with  her  cousin — Why,  in  heaven's  name,  elope, 
when  you  have  all  the  power  and  a  negHgible  parent  ? 
— sturnbled  over  Mina.  Well  then,  was  it  with  Mina 
Harry  had  eloped?  Miss  S.  threw  out  hints  in  this 
direction.  Why  then  Cecily?  Miss  S.  was  not  at  a 
loss.  She  said  nothing,  no ;  but  if  it  should  turn  out 
that  Cecily's  presence  was  secured  as  .a.  protection 
against  the  wrath  of  Major  Duplay  (who,  everybody 
knew,  hated  Harry),  she,  Miss  S.,  would  be  less  sur- 
prised than  many  of  those  who  conceived  themselves 
to  know  everything.  A  Cecily  party  and  a  Mina  party 
grew  up — and  a  third  party,  who  would  have  none  of 
either,  and  declared  that  they  had  their  own  ideas,  and 
that  time  would  show. 

Gossip  raged,  and  old  Mr  Neeld  sat  in  the  middle  of 
the  conflagration.  How  his  record  of  evasion,  nay,  of 
downright  falsehood,  mounted  up !  False  facts  and 
fictitious  reasons  flowed  from  his  lips.  There  was 
pathos  in  the  valor  with  w'hich  he  maintained  his  po- 
sition ;  he  was  hard  pressed,  but  he  did  not  fall.  There 
was  a  joy  too  in  the  fight.  For  he  alone  of  all  Blent- 
mouth  knew  the  great  secret,  and  guessed  that  what 
was  happening  had  to  do  with  the  secret.  Harry  had 
asked  silence  for  a  week  ;  before  two  days  of  it  were 
gone  came  this  news. 

"  If  they  do  mean  to  be  married,"  said  Janie,  "  why 
couldn't  they  do  it  decently?"  She  meant  with  the 
respectable  deliberation  of  her  own  alliance. 

"  Tristram's  a  queer  fellow,"  pondered  Bob  Broad- 
ley. 

"  I  only  hope  he  isn't  rushing  her  into  it — on  pur- 
pose.   What  do  you  think,  Mr  Kecld?  " 

"  My  dear  Janie " 

1 393  J 


Tristram   ^y^  Blent 

"  He  may  not  want  to  give  her  time  to  think.  It's 
not  a  good  match  for  her  now,  is  it?  " 

"  I — I  can't  think  that  Harry  Tristram  would " 

"  Well,  Neeld,"  said  Iver  judicially,  "  I'm  not  so  sure. 
Master  Harry  can  play  a  deep  game  when  he  likes.  I 
know  that  very  well — and  to  my  cost  too." 

What  Janie  hinted  and  Iver  did  not  discard  was  a 
view  which  found  some  supporters  ;  and  where  it  was 
entertained,  poor  Mina  Zabriska's  character  was  gone. 
Miss  S.  herself  was  all  but  caught  by  the  idea,  and  went 
so  far  as  to  say  that  she  had  never  thought  highly  of 
Madame  Zabriska,  while  the  Major  was  known  to  be 
impecunious.  There  was  a  nefariousness  about  the 
new  suggestion  that  proved  very  attractive  in  Blent- 
mouth. 

Late  in  the  day  came  fresh  tidings,  new  fuel  for  the 
flames.  Mr  Gainsborough  had  driven  again  into  Blent- 
mouth  and  taken  the  train  for  London.  Two  port- 
manteaus and  a  wicker-crate,  plausibly  conjectured  to 
contain  between  them  all  his  worldly  possessions,  had 
accompanied  him  on  the  journey.  He  was  leaving 
Blent  then,  if  not  for  ever,  at  least  for  a  long  while.  He 
had  evaded  notice  in  his  usual  fashion,  and  nearly 
driven  over  Miss  S.  when  she  tried  to  get  in  the  way. 
Miss  S.  was  partly  consoled  by  a  bit  of  luck  that  fol- 
lowed. She  met  Mina's  cook,  come  down  from  Merrion 
to  buy  household  stores ;  her  mistress  was  to  return 
to  her  own  house  on  the  morrow !  There  seemed  no 
need  to  search  for  inferences.  They  leapt  to  light. 
Either  Blent  was  to  be  shut  up,  or  it  was  to  receive  a 
wedded  pair.  On  this  alternative  the  factions  split,  and 
the  battle  was  furious.  Mrs  Trumbler  definitely  fought 
Miss  S.  for  the  first  time  in  her  life.  On  one  point  only 
the  whole  town  agreed ;  it  was  being  cheated — either 
out  of  the  wedding  which  was  its  right,  or  else  out  of 
the  ball  in  the  winter  to  which  Miss  S.  had  irrevocably 

[394] 


The   Cat   and  the   Bell 

committed  Lady  Tristram.  The  popularity  of  Blent 
fell  to  nothing  in  the  neighborhood. 

The  next  morning  Mr  Neeld  gained  the  reward  of 
virtue,  and  became  a  hero  in  spite  of  his  discretion.  At 
breakfast  he  received  a  telegram.  Times  were  critical, 
and  all  eyes  were  on  him  as  he  read,  and  re-read,  and 
frowned  perplexedly.    Then  he  turned  to  Iver. 

"  Can  you  let  me  have  a  trap  this  afternoon,  Iver  ?  " 

"  Of  course,  of  course.  But  you're  not  going  to  leave 
us,  I  hope?  " 

*'  Only  just  for  the  evening;  I — in  fact  1  have  to  go 
to  Blent." 

There  was  a  moment's  siience.  Glances  were  ex- 
changed, while  Neeld  made  half-hearted  efforts  to 
grapple  with  an  egg.  Then  Bob  Broadley  broke  out 
with  a  laugh, 

"  Oh,  hang  it  all,  out  with  it,  Mr  Neeld !  " 

"  Well,  I'm  not  told  to  be  silent ;  and  it  must  be- 
come known  immediately.  Madame  Zabriska  tele- 
graphs to  me  that  they  are  to  be  married  early  this 
morning,  and  will  come  to  Blent  by  the  1.30  train.  She 
herself  leaves  by  the  1 1  o'clock,  will  be  there  at  five, 
and  wishes  me  to  join  her." 

"  By  Jove,  he's  done  it  then  !  "  exclaimed  Iver. 

Everybody  looked  very  solemn  except  Neeld,  who 
was  sadly  confused. 

"  Dear,  dear !  "  murmured  Mrs  Iver. 

"  She  must  be  very  much  in  love  with  him,"  re- 
marked Janie. 

"  It's  his  conduct  more  than  hers  which  needs  ex- 
planation," Iver  observed  dryly.  "  And  what  do  they 
want  you  for,  Neeld?"  If  his  tone  and  his  question 
were  not  very  flattering,  they  were  excused  by  the  ob- 
vious fact  that  there  was  no  sort  of  reason  for  wanting 
Mr  Neeld — or  at  any  rate  seemed  to  all  that  party  to 
be  none. 

[395] 


Tristram   ^^/^  Blent 

"  Oh — er — why — why  no  doubt  it's — it's  only  a  fancy 
of  Mina  Zabriska's." 

"  A  very  queer  fancy,"  said  Janie  Iver  coldly.  It  was 
really  a  little  annoying  that  old  Mr  Neeld  should  be 
the  person  wanted  at  Blent. 

"  ril  drive  you  over,"  Bob  kindly  volunteered. 

"  Er — thank  you,  Broadley,  but  she  asks  me  to  come 
alone." 

"  Well,  I'm  hanged!  "  muttered  Bob,  who  had  seen 
a  chance  of  being  in  at  the  death. 

They  were  coming  straight  down  to  Blent.  That 
fact  assumed  an  important  place  in  Neeld's  review  of 
the  situation.  And  his  presence  was  requested.  He 
put  these  two  things  together.  They  must  mean  that 
the  secret  was  to  be  told  that  evening  at  Blent,  and  that 
he  was  to  be  vouched  as  evidence,  if  by  chance  Cecily 
asked  for  it.  On  the  very  day  of  the  wedding  the  truth 
was  to  be  revealed.  In  ignorance,  perhaps  in  her  own 
despite,  she  had  been  made  in  reality  what  she  had 
conceived  herself  to  be ;  to-day  she  was  Lady  Tris- 
tram in  law.  Now  she  was  to  be  told.  Neeld  saw  the 
choice  that  would  be  laid  before  her,  and,  at  the  same 
time,  the  use  that  had  been  made  of  his  silence.  He 
fell  into  a  sore  puzzle.  Yes,  Harry  could  play  a  deep 
game  when  he  chose. 

"  It's  quite  impossible  to  justify  either  the  use  he's 
made  of  me  or  the  way  he's  treated  her,"  he  concluded 
sadly.  "  I  shall  speak  very  seriously  to  him  about  it." 
But  he  knew  that  the  serious  speaking,  however  com- 
forting it  might  be  to  himself  as  a  protest,  would  fall 
very  hghtly  on  Harry  Tristram's  ears ;  their  listening 
would  be  for  the  verdict  of  another  voice. 

"  Do  you  think  Disney  will  repeat  his  ofifer — will  give 
him  a  chance  of  reconsidering  now  ?  "  asked  Iver,  who 
had  heard  of  that  affair  from  Lord  Southend.. 

"  I'm  sure  he  wouldn't  accept  anything,"  Neeld  an- 

[396] 


The   Cat  and  the  Bell 

swered  with  remarkable  promptitude  and  conviction. 
It  was  a  luxury  to  find  an  opportunity  of  speaking  the 
truth. 

"  The  least  he  could  do  would  be  to  leave  that  to 
her." 

"  She'd  say  just  the  same,"  Neeld  assured  him.  "  I'm 
convinced  there'll  be  no  question  of  anything  of  the 
kind." 

"  Then  it's  very  awkward,"  Iver  grumbled  crossly. 

In  all  his  varied  experience  of  the  Imp — which  in- 
cluded, it  may  be  remembered,  a  good  deal  of  plain- 
speaking  and  one  embrace — Neeld  had  never  found  her 
in  such  a  state  as  governed  her  this  evening.  Mason 
gave  him  tea  while  she  walked  restlessly  about;  he 
gathered  that  Mason  was  dying  to  talk  but  had  been 
sore  w^ounded  in  an  encounter  with  Mina  already,  and 
was  now  perforce  holding  his  tongue. 

"  They'll  be  here  by  seven,  and  you  and  I  are  to  dine 
with  them,"  she  told  him.     "  Quite  informally." 

"  Dear  me,  I — I  don't  think  I  want "  he  began. 

"  Hush !  "  she  interrupted.  "  Are  you  going  to  be 
all  day  with  those  things,  Mason  ?  " 

"  I  hope  I  haven't  been  slower  than  usual,  ma'am," 
said  Mason  very  stiffly. 

At  last  he  went.  In  an  instant  Mina  darted  across 
to  Neeld,  and  caught  him  by  the  arm.  "  What  have 
you  to  tell  me  ?  "  she  cried. 

"  To  tell  you  ?  I  ?  Oh,  dear,  no,  Madame  Zabriska ! 
I  assure  you " 

"  Oh,  there's  no  need  for  that !  Harry  said  you  were 
to  tell  me  before  they  arrived ;  that's  why  I  sent  for 
you  now." 

"  He  said  I  was  to  tell  you ?  " 

"Yes,  yes.  Something  you  knew  and  I  didn't; 
something  that  would  explain  it  all." 

She  stood  before  liim    with  clasped  hands.      "  It's 

[397  J 


Tristram   of  Blent 

quite  true  ;  he  did  say  so,"  she  pleaded.  "  It's  all  been 
so  delightful,  and  yet  so  strange ;  and  he  told  me  to 
be  ready  either  to  stav  here  or  to  go  home  to-night ! 
Tell  me,  tell  me,  Mr  Neeld !  " 

"  Why  didn't  he  tell  you  himself?  " 

"  I  only  saw  him  alone  for  an  instant  after  the  wed- 
ding; and  before  it  he  didn't  say  a  word  about  there 
being  anything  to  tell.    There's  a  secret.    What  is  it?" 

He  was  glad  to  tell  it.  He  had  carried  his  burden 
long  enough. 

"  We've  all  made  a  great  blunder.  Harry  is  Lord 
Tristram  after  all." 

Mina  stood  silent  for  a  moment.  "  Oh ! "  she 
gasped.  "  And  he's  married  Cecily  without  telHng 
her?" 

"  That's  what  he  has  done,  I  regret  to  say.  And  I 
take  it  that  he  means  to  tell  her  to-night." 

Mina  sank  into  a  chair.  "  What  will  she  do  ?  "  she 
murmured.    "  What  will  she  do  ?  " 

"  There  was  a  mistake — or  rather  a  fraud — about  the 
date  of  Sir  Randolph  Edge's  death ;  his  brother  knew 
it.  I'll  tell  you  the  details  if  you  like.  But  that's  the 
end  and  the  sum  of  it.  As  to  why  he  didn't  tell — er — 
his  wife  sooner,  perhaps  you  know  better  than  I." 

"  Yes,  I  know  that,"  she  said.  And  then — it  was 
most  inconsiderate,  most  painful  to  Mr  Neeld — she 
began  to  cry.  Unable  to  bear  this  climax  of  excitement 
coming  on  the  top  of  her  two  days'  emotion,  she  sobbed 
hysterically.  "  They'll  be  here  at  seven  !  "  she  moaned. 
"What  will  happen?  Oh,  Mr  Neeld!  And  I  know 
he'll  expect  me  to  be  calm  and — and  to  carry  it  off — 
and  be  composed.    How  can  I  be  ?  " 

"  Perhaps  a  glass  of  sherry ?  "  was  Mr  Neeld's 

not  unreasonable  suggestion. 

No,  the  old  brown  would  not  serve  here.  But  with- 
out its  aid  a  sudden  change  came  over  Mina.     She 

[398] 


The   Cat  and  the  Bell 

sprang  to  her  feet  and  left  the  tears  to  roll  down  h«r 
cheeks  untended  as  she  cried, 

"  What  a  splendid  thing  to  do  !  Oh,  how  like  Harry  ! 
And  it's  to  be  settled  to-night!  What  can  we  do  to 
make  it  go  right  ?  " 

"  I  intend  to  take  no  responsibility  at  all."  protested 
Neeld.  "  I'm  here  to  speak  to  the  facts  if  I'm  wanted, 
but " 

"  Oh,  bother  the  facts !  What  are  we  to  do  to  make 
her  take  it  properly?  "  She  gave  another  sob.  "Oh, 
I'm  an  idiot!  "  she  cried.  "  Haven't  you  anything  to 
suggest,  Mr  Neeld  ?  " 

He  shrugged  his  shoulders  peevishly.  Her  spirits 
fell  again. 

"  I  see !  Yes,  if  she — if  she  doesn't  take  it  properly, 
he'll  go  away  again,  and  I'm  to  be  ready  to  stay  here." 
Another  change  in  the  barometer  came  in  a  flash. 
"  But  she  can't  help  being  Lady  Tristram  now  !  " 

"  It's  all  a  most  unjustifiable  proceeding.  He  tricks 
the  girl " 

"  Yes,  he  had  to.  That  was  the  only  chance.  If 
he'd  told  her  before " 

"  But  isn't  she  in  love  with  him?  " 

"  Oh,  you  don't  know  the  Tristrams !  Oh,  what  are 
we  to  do?"  Save  running  through  every  kind  and 
degree  of  emotion  Mina  seemed  to  find  nothing  to  do. 

"  And  I'm  bound  to  say  that  I  consider  our  position 
most  embarrassing."  Mr  Neeld  spoke  with  some 
warmth,  with  some  excuse  too  perhaps.  To  welcome  a 
newly  married  couple  home  may  be  thought  always 
to  require  some  tact ;  when  it  is  a  toss-up  whether  they 
will  not  part  again  for  ever  under  your  very  eyes  the 
situation  is  not  improved.  Such  trials  should  not  be 
inflicted  on  quiet  old  bachelors;  Josiah  Cholderton 
had  not  done  with  his  editor  yet. 

"  We  must  treat  it  as  a  mere  trifle,"  the  Imp  an- 

[399] 


Tristram  of  Blent 

nounced,  fixing  on  the  thing  which  above  all  others 
she  could  not  achieve.  Yet  her  manner  was  so  con- 
fident that  Neeld  gasped.  "And  if  that  doesn't  do, 
we  must  tell  her  that  the  happiness  of  her  whole  life 
depends  on  what  she  does  to-night."  Variety  of  treat- 
ment was  evidently  not  to  be  lacking. 

"  I  intend  to  take  no  responsibility  of  any  kind.  He's 
got  himself  into  a  scrape.  Let  him  get  out  of  it,"  per- 
sisted Neeld. 

"  I  thought  you  were  his  friend  ?  " 

"  I  may  be  excused  if  I  consider  the  ladv  a  little 
too." 

'*  I  suppose  I  don't  care  for  Cecily?  Do  you  mean 
that,  Mr  Neeld?" 

"  My  dear  friend,  need  we  quarrel  too  ?  " 

"Don't  be  stupid.  Who's  quarrelling?  I  never 
knew  anybody  so  useless  as  you  are.  Can't  you  do 
anything  but  sit  there  and  talk  about  responsibilities  ?  " 
She  was  ranging  about,  a  diminutive  tiger  of  unusually 
active  habits.  She  had  wandered  round  the  room  again 
before  she  burst  out : 

"  Oh,  but  it's  something  to  see  the  end  of  it !  " 

That  was  his  feeling  too,  however  much  he  might 
rebuke  himself  for  it.  Human  life  at  first-hand  had 
not  been  too  plentiful  with  him.  The  Imp's  excitement 
infected  him.  "  And  he's  back  here  after  all !  "  she 
cried.  "  At  least — Heavens,  they'll  be  here  directlv, 
Mr  Neeld !  " 

"  Yes,  it's  past  seven,"  said  he. 

"  Come  into  the  garden.  We'll  wait  for  them  on  the 
bridge."  She  turned  to  him  as  they  passed  through  the 
hall.  "  Wouldn't  you  like  something  of  this  sort  to 
happen  to  you?  "  she  asked. 

No.  He  was  perturbed  enough  as  a  spectator;  he 
would  not  have  been  himself  engaged  in  the  play. 

"  Why  isn't  everybody  here  ?  "  she  demanded,  with  a 

[400] 


The   Cat  and  the  Bell 

laugh  that  was  again  nervous  and  almost  hysterical. 
"  Wliy  isn't  Addie  Tristram  here  ?  Ah,  and  your  old 
Cholderton?" 

*'  Hark,  I  hear  wheels  on  the  road,"  said  Mr  Neeld. 

Mina  looked  hard  at  him.  "  She  shall  do  right,"  she 
said,  "  and  Harry  shall  not  go." 

"  Surely  they'll  make  the  best  of  a ?  " 

"  Oh,  we're  not  talking  of  your  Ivers  and  your 
Broadleys  !  "  she  interrupted  indignantly.  "  If  they 
were  like  that,  we  should  never  have  been  where  we 
are  at  all." 

How  true  it  was,  how  lamentably  true  !  One  had  to 
presuppose  Addie  Tristram,  and  turns  of  fortune  or  of 
chance  wayward  as  Addie  herself — and  to  reckon  with 
the  same  blood,  now  in  young  and  living  veins. 

"  I  can't  bear  it,"  whispered  Alina. 

"  He'll  expect  you  to  be  calm  and  composed,"  Neeld 
reminded  her. 

"  Then  give  me  a  cigarette,"  she  implored  despair- 
ingly. 

"  I  am  not  a  smoker,"  said  Mr  Neeld. 

"  Oh,  you  really  are  the  very  last  man !    Well, 

come  on  the  bridge,"  groaned  Mina. 

They  waited  on  the  bridge,  and  the  wheels  drew 
near.  They  spoke  no  more.  They  had  found  nothing 
to  do.  They  could  only  wait.  A  fly  came  down  the 
road. 

There  they  sat,  side  by  side.  Cecily  was  leaning 
forward,  her  eyes  were  eager,  and  there  was  a  bright 
touch  of  color  on  her  cheeks  ;  Harry  leant  back,  look- 
ing at  her,  not  at  Blent.  He  wore  a  quiat  smile;  his 
air  was  very  calm.  He  saw  Mina  and  Neeld,  and  waved 
his  hand  to  them.  The  fly  stopped  opposite  tlie  bridge. 
He  jumped  out  and  assisted  Cecily  to  alight.  In  a 
moment  she  was  in  Mina's  arms.  The  next,  she  recog- 
nized Neeld's  presence  with  a  little  cry  of  surprise.    At 

[401 J 


Tristram  of  Blent 

a  loss  to  account  for  himself,  the  old  man  stood  there  in 
embarrassed  wretchedness. 

"  I  want  you  to  wait,"  said  Harry  to  the  driver.  "  Put 
up  in  the  stables,  and  they'll  give  you  something  to  eat. 
You  must  wait  till  I  send  you  word." 

"  Wait  ?  Why  is  he  to  wait,  Harry  ?  "  asked  Cecily. 
Her  tone  was  gay ;  she  was  overflowing  with  joy  and 
merriment.  '*  Who's  going  away  ?  Oh,  is  it  you,  Mr 
Neeld?" 

"  I — I  have  a  trap  from  Mr  Iver's,"  he  stammered. 

"  I  may  want  to  send  a  message,"  Harry  explained. 
**  Kind  of  you  to  come,  Mr  Neeld." 

"  I — I  must  wish  you  joy,"  said  Neeld,  taking  refuge 
in  conventionality. 

"  We've  had  a  capital  journey  down,  haven't  we, 
Cecily?    And  I'm  awfully  hungry.    What  time  is  it?  " 

JNIason  was  rubbing  his  hands  in  the  doorway. 

"  Dinner's  ordered  at  eight,  sir,"  said  he. 

"  And  it's  half-past  seven  now.  Just  time  to  wash 
our  hands.    No  dress  to-night,  you  know." 

"  I'll  go  to  my  room,"  said  Cecily.  "  Will  you  come 
with  me,  Mina  ?  " 

A  glance  from  Harry  made  the  Imp  excuse  herself. 
"  I'll  keep  Mr  Neeld  company,"  she  said. 

Cecily  turned  to  her  husband.  She  smiled  and 
blushed  a  little. 

*'  I'll  take  you  as  far  as  your  room,"  said  he. 

Mina  and  Neeld  watched  them  go  upstairs ;  then 
each  dropped  into  a  chair  in  the  hall.  Mason  passed 
by,  chuckling  to  himself;  Neeld  looked  harmless,  and 
he  dared  to  speak  to  him. 

"  Well,  this  is  the  next  best  thing  to  Mr  Harry  com- 
ing back  to  his  own,  sir,"  said  he. 

That  was  it.  That  was  the  feeling.  Mason  had  got 
it! 

"  I'm  glad  of  it  after  all,"  Neeld  confessed  to  Mina. 

[402] 


The   Cat  and  the  Bell 

"  Wait,  wait !  "  she  urged,  sitting  straight  in  her 
chair,  apparently  Hstening  for  any  sound.  Her  obvious 
anxiety  extended  its  contagion  to  him  ;  he  understood 
better  how  nice  the  issue  was. 

"  Will  you  come  in  the  garden  with  me  after  dinner?  " 
asked  Harry,  as  Cecily  and  he  went  upstairs. 

"  Of  course — when  they've  gone." 

"  No,  directly.    I  want  to  say  a  word  to  you." 

"  We  must  escape  then !  "  she  laughed.  "'  Oh,  well, 
they'll  expect  that,  I  suppose."  Her  delight  in  her 
love  bubbled  over  in  her  laugh. 

They  came  to  the  door  of  her  room,  and  she  stopped. 

"  Here?  "  asked  Harry.  "  Yes,  it  was  my  mother's 
room.    You  reign  now  in  my  mother's  stead." 

His  voice  had  a  ring  of  triumph  in  it.  He  kissed  her 
hand.    "  Dinner  as  soon  as  you're  ready,"  said  he. 

She  laughed  again  and  blushed  as  she  opened  the 
door  and  stood  holding  the  handle. 

"Won't  you  come  in — just  for  a  minute,  Harry? 
I — I  haven't  changed  this  room  at  all." 

"  All  is  yours  to  change  or  to  keep  unchanged,"  said 
he. 

"  Oh,  I've  no  reason  for  changing  anything  now. 
Everything's  to  be  put  back  in  the  Long  Gallery!" 
She  paused,  and  then  said  again.  "  ^^"on't  you  come  in 
for  just  a  minute,  Harry?  " 

"  I  must  go  back  to  our  friends  downstairs,"  he 
answered. 

The  pretext  was  threadbare,  \\niat  did  the  guests 
matter?  They  would  do  well  enough.  It  had  cost  her 
something  to  ask — a  little  effort — since  the  request 
still  seemed  so  strange,  since  its  pleasure  had  a  fear  in 
it.    And  now  she  was  refused. 

"  I  ask  you,"  she  said,  with  a  sudden  haughtiness. 

He  stood  looking  at  her  a  moment.  There  was  a 
brisk  step  along  the  corridor. 

[403] 


Tristram   (J/^  Blent 

"  Oh,  I  beg  your  Ladyship's  pardon.  I  didn't  know 
your  Ladyship  had  come  upstairs."  It  was  Cecily's 
maid. 

"  In  about  twenty  minutes,"  said  Harry  with  a  nod. 
Slowly  Cecily  followed  the  maid  inside. 

After  he  had  washed  his  hands  Harry  rejoined  his 
friends.  They  were  still  sitting  in  the  hall  with  an  air 
of  expectancy. 

"You've  told  her?"  cried  Mina.  "Oh,  yes,  Mr 
Neeld  has  told  me  everything-." 

"Well,    I've    mentioned   the   bare   fact "    Neeld 

began. 

"  Yes,  yes,  that's  the  only  thing  that  matters.  You've 
told  her,  Harrv  ? "  The  last  two  davs  made  him 
"  Harry  "  and  her  "  Mina." 

"  No,  I  had  a  chance  and  I — funked  it,"  said  Harry, 
slow  in  speech  and  slow  in  smile.  "  She  asked  me  into 
her  room.    Well,  I  wouldn't  go." 

He  laughed  as  he  spoke,  laughed  rather  scorn- 
fully. 

"  It's  rather  absurd.  I  shall  be  all  right  after  dinner," 
he  added,  laughing  still.  "  Or  would  you  like  to  do 
the  job  for  me,  Mina?  " 

The  Imp  shook  her  head  with  immense  deter- 
mination. "  I'll  throw  myself  into  the  Blent  if  you 
like,"  she  said. 

"  What  about  you,  Mr  Neeld?  " 

"  My  dear  friend,  oh,  my  dear  friend ! "  Un- 
disguised panic  took  possession  of  Mr  Neeld.  He 
tried  to  cover  it  by  saying  sternly,  "  This — er — pre- 
posterous position  is  entirely  your  own  fault,  you  know. 
You  have  acted " 

"  Yes,  I  know,"  nodded  Harry,  not  impatiently  but 
with  a  sombre  assent.  He  roused  himself  the  next 
moment,  saying,  "  Well,  somebody's  got  to  bell  the 
cat,  you  know." 

[404] 


The   Cat  and  the   Bell 

"  Really  it's  not  my  business,"  protested  Neeld  and 
Mina  in  one  breath,  both  laughing  nervously. 

"  You  like  the  fun,  but  you  don't  want  any  of  the 
work,"  remarked  Harry. 

That  was  true,  true  to  their  disgrace.  They  both  felt 
the  reproach.  How  were  they  better  than  the  rest  of 
the  neighborhood,  who  were  content  to  gossip  and 
gape  and  take  the  fortunes  of  the  Tristrams  as  mere 
matter  for  their  own  entertainment  ? 

"  I've  made  you  look  ashamed  of  yourselves  now," 
he  laughed.  "  Well,  I  must  do  the  thing  myself,  I 
suppose.    What  a  pity  Miss  Swinkerton  isn't  here  !  " 

Cecily  came  down.  She  passed  Harry  with  a  rather 
distant  air  and  took  Neeld's  arm. 

"  They  say  dinner's  ready,"  said  she.  "  Mina,  will 
you  come  with  Harry?  " 

Harry  sank  into  the  chair  opposite  Cecily — and  op- 
posite the  picture  of  Addie  Tristram  on  the  wall. 
"  Well,  somehow  I've  managed  to  get  back  here,"  said 
he. 

The  shadow  had  passed  from  Cecily's  face.  She 
looked  at  him,  blushing  and  laughing. 

"  At  a  terrible  price,  poor  Harry?  "  she  said. 

"  At  a  big  price,"  he  answered. 

She  looked  round  at  the  three.  Harry  was  com- 
posed, but  there  was  no  mistaking  the  perturbation  of 
the  Imp  and  Mr  Neeld. 

"  A  big  price  ?  "  she  asked  wonderingly.  "  Isn't  that 
a  queer  compliment,  Harry?  "  Then  a  light  seemed  to 
break  in  on  her,  and  she  cried :  "  You  mean  the  cost 
of  your  pride  ?  I  should  never  let  that  stand  between 
you  and  me  !  " 

"  Will  you  make  a  note  of  that  admission,  Mina?  " 
said  Harry  with  a  smile.  "  Because  you  didn't  say  so 
always,  Cecily.    Do  you  recollect  what  you  once  said  ? 

i405j 


Tristram  of  Blent 

'  If  ever  the  time  comes,  I  shall  remember ! '  That  was 
what  you  said." 

She  looked  at  him  with  a  glance  that  was  suddenly 
troubled.  There  seemed  a  meaning  in  his  words.  She 
pushed  back  her  chair  and  rose  from  the  table. 

"  I  don't  want  dinner.  I'm  going  into  the  garden," 
she  said. 

They  sat  still  as  she  went  out.  Harry  refolded  his 
napkin  and  slowly  rose  to  his  feet.  "  I  should  have 
liked  it  better  after  dinner,"  he  observed. 

Mina  and  Mr  Xeeld  sat  on. 

"  Are  we  to  dine  ?  "  whispered  Neeld.  There  is  the 
body,  after  all. 

"  Oh,  yes,  sir,"  came  in  Mason's  soothing  tones  over 
his  shoulder.  "  We  never  waited  for  her  late  Lady- 
ship."   And  he  handed  soup. 

"  Really  Mason  is  rather  a  comfort,"  thought  Mr 
Neeld.    The  Imp  drank  a  glass  of  champagne. 


[406] 


XXIX 

The    Curmudgeon 

IN  his  most  business-like  tones,  with  no  more 
gesture  than  a  pointing  of  his  finger  now  and  then, 
or  an  occasional  wave  of  his  hand,  Harry  detailed 
the  circumstances.  He  was  methodical  and  accurate ; 
he  might  have  been  opening  a  case  in  the  law-courts, 
and  would  have  earned  a  compliment  on  his  lucidity. 
There  was  something  ludicrous  in  this  treatment  of 
the  matter,  but  he  remained  very  grave,  although  quite 
unemotional. 

"  What  was  my  position  then  ?  "  he  asked.  "  I  re- 
membered what  you'd  said.  I  saw  the  pull  I'd  given 
you.  If  I'd  told  you  before,  you'd  have  had  nothing  to 
do  with  me.  You'd  have  taken  a  tragic  delight  in  going 
back  to  your  little  house.  I  should  have  given  you 
your  revenge." 

"  So  you  cheated  me  ?  It  shows  the  sort  of  person 
you  are !  " 

He  went  on  as  though  he  had  not  heard  her  in- 
dignant ejaculation. 

"  I  had  fallen  in  love  with  you — with  you  and  with 
the  idea  of  your  being  here.  I  couldn't  have  anybody 
else  at  Blent,  and  I  had  to  have  you.  It  was  impossible 
for  me  to  turn  you  out.  I  don't  think  it  would  have 
been  gentlemanly." 

"  It  was  more  gentlemanly  to  marry  me  on  false  pre- 
tences ?  " 

"  Well,  perhaps  not,  but  a  form  of  ungentleman- 
liness  less  repulsive  to  me — Oh,  just  to  me  personally. 
I  don't  know  whether  you  quite  understand  yet  why  I 

[407] 


Tristram  of  Blent 

gave  up  Blent  to  yon.  Jnst  the  same  feeling  has  made 
me  do  this — with  the  addition,  of  course,  that  I'm  more 
in  love  with  you  now." 

"  I  don't  believe  it,  or  you'd  have  trusted  me — trusted 
my  love  for  you." 

"  I've  trusted  it  enormously — trusted  it  to  forgive 
me  this  deceit." 

"  If  you  had  come  and  told  me " 

"  At  the  very  best  you'd  have  taken  months." 

"  And  you  couldn't  wait  for  me?  " 

"  Well,  waiting's  a  thing  I  detest." 

"  Oh,  I've  made  up  my  mind,"  she  declared.  "  I  shall 
go  back  to  town  to-night." 

"  No,  no,  that's  not  it."  Harry  did  not  want  the  ar- 
rangement misunderstood.  "  If  we  can't  agree,  I  go 
back  to  town — not  you.    I  kept  my  fly." 

"  You  needn't  make  fun  of  it  anyhow." 

"  I'm  not.  I'm  quite  serious.  You  stay  here,  I 
go  away.  I  accept  this  post  abroad — the  Arbitration 
business.  I've  got  to  send  an  answer  about  it  to- 
morrow." J 

"  No,  I  shall  go.     I'm  resolved  upon  it.     I  won  t 

stay  here." 

"  Then  we  must  shut  the  place  up,  or  pull  it  down, 
said  Harry.    "  It  will  look  absurd,  but— Well,  we  never 
consider  the  neighbors."    For  the  first  time  he  seemed 
vexed.      "  I    did    count   on   your    staying   here,"   he 
explained.  ^  ,  ^^ 

"  I  can  never  forgive  you  for  deceiving  me.' 
•'  You  said  you  wouldn't  let  your  pride  stand  between 

us." 

"  It's  not  my  pride.  It's — it's  the  revelation  of  what 
you  are,  and  what  you'll  stoop  to  do,  to  gain !  " 

"  What  have  I  gained  yet?  "  he  asked.  "  Only  what 
you  choose  to  give  me  now !  " 

She  looked  at  him  for  a  moment.    The  little  sc^ne  'n 

[408] 


The  Curmudgeon 

the  corridor  upstairs  came  back  to  her.  So  that  was 
the  meaning  of  it ! 

"  I've  taken  your  freedom  from  you.  That's  true.  In 
return  I've  given  you  Blent.    I  did  the  best  I  could." 

"  Oh,  do  you  really  delude  yourself  like  that?  What 
you  did  was  utter  selfishness." 

Harry  sighed.  They  were  not  getting  on  prosper- 
ously. 

"  Very  well,"  he  said.  "  We'll  agree  on  that. 
There's  been  a  revelation  of  what  I  am.  I  don't — I 
distinctly  don't  justify  myself.    It  was  a  lie,  a  fraud." 

"  Yes,"  said  Cecily,  in  a  low  but  emphatic  assent. 

"  I  gained  your  consent  by  a  trick,  when  you  ought 
to  have  been  free  to  give  or  refuse  it.    I  admit  it  all." 

"  And  it  has  brought  us  to  this!  "  She  rose  as  she 
spoke,  a  picture  of  indignation.  "  There's  no  use  talk- 
ing any  more  about  it,"  said  she. 

He  looked  at  her  long  and  deliberately.  He  seemed 
to  weigh  something  in  his  mind,  to  ask  whether  he 
should  or  should  not  say  something. 

"  And  you  conclude  that  the  sort  of  person  I  am 
isn't  fit  to  live  with  ?  "  he  asked  at  last. 

"  I've  told  you  what  I've  made  up  my  mind  to  do. 
I  can't  help  whether  you  stay  or  go  too.  But  I'm  going 
away  from  here,  and  going  alone." 

"  Because  I'm  that  sort  of  person?  " 

"  Yes.     If  you  like  to  put  it  that  way,  yes." 

"  Very  well.  But  before  you  go,  a  word  about  you ! 
Sit  down,  please."  She  obeyed  his  rather  imperative 
gesture.  "  I've  been  meek,"  he  smiled.  "  I've  admit- 
ted all  you  said  about  me.  And  now,  please,  a  word 
about  you !  " 

"  About  me?  What  is  there  to  say  about  me?  Oh, 
you're  going  back  to  that  old  story  about  my  pride 
again !  " 

Once  more  he  looked  long  at  her  face.    It  was  flushed 

[409J 


Tristram  of  Blent 

and  rebellions,   it  gave  no   hint  of  yielding  to  any 
weapon  that  he  had  yet  employed. 

"  I'm  not  going  to  speak  of  your  pride,  but  of  your 
incredible  meanness,"  said  he. 

"  What  ?  "  cried  Cecily,  rudely  startled  and  sitting 
bolt  upright. 

"  There's  no  harm  in  plain  speaking,  since  we're 
going  to  part.  Of  your  extraordinary  meanness,  Cecily 
— and  really  it's  not  generally  a  fault  of  the  Tris- 
trams." 

"  Perhaps  you'll  explain  yourself,"  she  said,  relapsing 
into  cold  disdain,  and  leaning  back  again. 

"  I  will.  I  mean  to.  Just  look  at  the  history  of  the 
whole  affair."  He  rose  and  stood  opposite  her,  con- 
straining her  to  look  at  him,  although  her  attitude 
professed  a  lofty  indifference.  "  Here  was  I — in  pos- 
session!  I  was  safe.  I  knew  I  was  safe.  I  wasas 
convinced  of  my  safety  as  I  am  even  now — when  it's 
beyond  question.  Was  I  frightened?  Ask  Mina,  ask 
Duplay.  Then  you  came.  You  know  what  I  did.  For 
your  sake,  because  you  were  what  you  are,  because  I 
had  begun  to  love  you — yes,  that's  the  truth  of  it — I 
gave  it  all  to  you.  Not  this  place  only,  but  all  I  had. 
Even  my  name — even  my  right  to  bear  any  name. 
Nobody  and  nameless,  I  went  out  of  this  house  for 
you." 

He  paused  a  little,  took  a  pace  on  the  grass,  and 
returned  to  her. 

"  What  ought  you  to  have  felt,  what  ought  you  to 
have  prayed  then?  "  he  asked.  "  Surely  that  it  should 
come  back  to  me,  that  it  should  be  mine  again  ?  " 

"  I  did,"  she  protested,  stirred  to  self-defence.  "  1 
was  miserable.  You  know  I  was.  I  couldn't  stay  here 
for  the  thought  of  you.  I  came  to  London.  I  came  to 
you,  Harry.    I  offered  it  to  you." 

"  It's  you  who  are  deceiving  yourself  now.    Yes,  you 

1:410] 


The  Curmudgeon 

came  and  offered  it  to  me.  Did  you  want,  did  you 
pray,  that  it  might  be  mine  again  by  no  gift  of  yours 
but  by  right  ?  Did  you  pray  that  the  thing  should  hap- 
pen which  has  happened  now?  That  you  should  be 
turned  out  and  I  should  be  put  in?  Back  in  my  own 
place,  my  proper  place?  That  I  should  be  Tristram 
of  Blent  again  ?    Did  you  pray  for  that  ?  " 

He  paused,  but  she  said  nothing.  Her  face  was 
troubled  now  and  her  eyes  could  not  leave  his. 

"  You  were  ready  to  play  Lady  Bountiful  to  me,  to 
give  of  your  charity,  to  make  yourself  feel  very  noble. 

That  was  it.    And  now "    His  voice  became  more 

vehement.  "  And  now,  look  into  your  heart,  look 
close  !  Look,  look  !  What's  in  your  heart  now  ?  You 
say  I've  cheated  you.  It's  true.  Is  that  why  you're 
angry,  is  that  why  you  won't  live  with  me?  No,  by 
heaven,  not  that,  or  anything  of  the  kind !  Will  you 
have  the  truth  ?  " 

Again  she  made  no  answer.  She  waited  for  his 
words. 

"  Are  you  rejoiced  that  mine's  my  own  again,  that 
I'm  back  in  my  place,  that  I'm  Tristram  of  Blent,  that 
it  belongs  to  me?  That  I  take  it  by  my  own  incontes- 
table right  and  not  of  your  hand,  by  your  bounty  and 
your  charity?  Are  you  so  rejoiced  at  that  that  you 
can  forgive  me  anything,  forgive  the  man  you  love 
anything?  Yes,  you  do  love  me — You're  welcome  to 
that,  if  you  think  it  makes  it  any  better.  It  seems  to 
me  to  make  it  worse.  No,  you  can't  forgive  me  any- 
thing, you  can't  forgive  the  man  you  love !  Why  not? 
I'll  tell  you  why  !    Shall  I  ?    Shall  I  go  on  ?  " 

She  bowed  her  head  and  clasped  her  hands  together. 

"  You  hate  my  having  come  to  my  own  again.  You 
hate  its  being  mine  by  right  and  not  by  your  bounty. 
You  hate  being  Lady  Tristram  only  because  I've 
chosen  to  make  you  so.     And  because  you  hate  that. 

[411] 


Tristram   ^  Blent 

you  won't  forgive  me,  and  you  say  you  won't  live  with 
me.  Yes,  you're  angry  because  I've  come  to  my  own 
again.  You  hate  it.  Look  in  your  heart,  I  say,  and 
tell  me  that  what  I  say  isn't  true,  if  you  can." 

She  made  no  answer  still.  He  came  a  step  closer  and 
smote  his  fist  on  the  palm  of  his  other  hand,  as  he 
ended : 

"  You  called  me  a  liar.  I  was  a  liar.  But,  by  God, 
you're  a  curmudgeon,  Cecily !  " 

For  a  moment  longer  she  looked  at  him,  as  he  stood 
there  in  his  scornful  anger.  Then  with  a  low  moan 
she  hid  her  face  in  her  hands.  The  next  minute  he 
turned  on  his  heel,  left  her  where  she  sat,  and  strode 
off  into  the  house. 

Mina  and  Neeld — now  at  their  sweets — heard  his 
step  and  exchanged  excited  glances.  He  walked  up  to 
the  head  of  the  table,  to  Cecily's  chair,  plumped  down 
into  it,  and  called  out  to  Mason,  "  Something  to  eat 
and  some  champagne." 

"  Yes,  sir,"  said  Mason  in  a  flurry. 

"  Oh,  by-the-bye,  you  can  say  '  my  -  Lord  "  again. 
The  lawyers  blundered,  and  there's  been  a  mistake." 

The  astonished  Mason  began  to  express  felicitations. 
Harry  was  petulantly  short  with  him. 

"  Oh,  shut  up  that,  my  dear  man,  and  give  me  some 
champagne."  He  drank  a  glass  ofif  and  then  observed, 
"  I  hope  you  two  have  had  a  decent  dinner?  "  He  had 
the  manner  of  a  host  now. 

"  I — I  hadn't  much  appetite,"  stammered  Neeld. 

"  Well,  I'm  hungry  anyhow,"  and  he  fell  to  on  his 
beef,  having  waved  soup  and  fish  aside  impatiently. 
"  Tell  them  all  downstairs  what  I've  told  you.  Mason, 
but  for  heaven's  sake  don't  let  there  be  any  fuss.  Oh, 
and  I  suppose  you'd  better  keep  something  hot  for  Lady 
Tristram." 

Mason's  exit  was  hastened  by  the  consciousness  of 

[412] 


The   Curmudgeon 

his  commission.  The  moment  he  was  gone  Mina  broke 
out: 

"Where's  Cecily?" 

"  I  left  her  on  the  lawn,''  said  Harry,  frowning  hard 
but  eating  heartily. 

"You've  told  her?" 

"  Yes,  I've  told  her." 

"  And  what  did  she  say  ?  "  The  Imp's  utterance  was 
jerky  from  her  perturbation. 

"Look  here,  Mina,  mightn't  you  go  and  ask  her? 
It's  a  long  story,  and  I'm  deuced  hungry,  you  know." 

Mina  needed  no  further  permission.  She  rose  and 
flew.  Neeld,  though  uncertain  what  was  expected  of 
him,  sat  on,  nervously  eating  gooseberries — a  fruit 
which  rarely  agreed  with  him.  Harry  drank  a  second 
glass  of  champagne  and  his  brow  relaxed,  although  he 
was  still  thoughtful. 

"  I — I  hope  all  has  gone  well  ?  "  Neeld  ventured  to 
inquire. 

"  I  scarcely  know.  The  interview  took  rather  an 
unexpected  turn."  He  spoke  as  though  the  develop- 
ment had  surprised  him  and  he  could  hardly  trace  how 
it  had  come  about.  "  The  whole  thing  will  be  settled 
very  soon,"  he  added.  "  Have  a  glass  of  port,  Mr 
Neeld?  It'll  do  you  more  good  than  those  goose- 
berries." 

Neeld  laid  a  ready  hand  on  the  decanter,  as  he  asked, 

"  Is — er — Lady  Tristram  not  coming  in  to  din- 
ner?" 

"  Really  I  don't  know.  She  didn't  mention  it."  His 
thoughts  seemed  elsewhere.  "  Was  I  wrong  to  tell 
Mason  to  give  me  the  title  ?  "  he  asked.  "  Ought  I  to 
wait  till  I've  formally  established  my  claim?  " 

"  Since  it's  quite  clear,  and   there's  no  opposition 

from — from   the    dispossessed    claimant "      Neeld 

smiled  feebly  and  sipped  his  port. 

[413J 


Tristram   ^  Blent 

"  That's  what  I  thought ;  and  it's  as  well  to  put 
things  on  a  permanent  basis  as  soon  as  possible.  When 
once  that's  done,  we  shall  think  less  about  all  this 
troublesome  affair."  He  sat  silent  for  a  few  minutes, 
while  Neeld  finished  his  wine.  "  I'm  going  to  have 
some  cheese.    Don't  you  wait,  Mr  Neeld." 

Old  Neeld  was  glad  to  escape ;  he  could  not  under- 
stand his  host's  mood  and  was  uneasy  in  talk  with  him. 
Moreover  it  seemed  that  the  great  question  was  being 
decided  in  the  garden  and  not  in  the  dining-room.  To 
the  garden  then  he  betook  himself. 

Harry  smoked  a  cigarette  when  his  meal  was  done, 
twisting  his  chair  round  so  that  he  could  see  Addie 
Tristram's  picture.  He  reviewed  his  talk  with  Cecily, 
trying  to  trace  how  that  unexpected  turn  in  it  had  come 
about  and  at  what  point  the  weapon  had  sprung  into 
his  hand.  He  had  used  it  with  effect — whether  with 
the  effect  he  desired  he  did  not  yet  know.  But  his  use 
of  it  had  not  been  altogether  a  ruse  or  an  artifice.  His 
sincerity,  his  vehemence,  his  very  cruelty  proved  that. 
He  had  spoken  out  a  genuine  resentment  and  a  right- 
eous reproach.  Thence  came  the  power  to  meet 
Cecily's  taunts  in  equal  battle  and  to  silence  her  charges 
of  deceit  with  his  retort  of  meanness. 

"  And  we  were  married  to-day !  And  we're  dam- 
nably in  love  with  one  another !  "  he  reflected.  "  I  sup- 
pose we  should  seem  queer  to  some  people."  This  was 
a  great  advance  toward  an  outside  view  of  the  family. 
Certainly  such  an  idea  had  never  occurred  to  Addie ; 
she  had  always  done  the  only  possible  thing !  "  Now 
what  will  she  do  ?  " 

At  least  it  did  not  seem  as  though  she  meant  to  have 
any  dinner.  The  fact  would  have  meant  much  had  a 
man  been  concerned.  With  a  woman  it  possessed  no 
more  than  a  moderate  significance.  With  a  Tristram 
v/oman  perhaps  it  had  none  at  all.    A  cigar  succeeded 

[414] 


The  Curmudgeon 

the  cigarette  in  Harry's  mouth,  as  he  sat  there  looking 
at  his  mother's  picture  and  thinking  of  his  wife.  He 
did  not  in  the  least  regret  that  she  was  his  wife  or  that 
he  had  Hed.  Any  scruples  that  he  ever  had  on  that 
score  he  had  removed  for  himself  by  realizing  that  she 
was  a  curmudgeon.  Neither  did  he  regret  what  he 
had  called  the  troublesome  affair.  It  had  brought  new 
things  into  his  life ;  new  thoughts  and  new  powers  had 
become  his.  And  it  had  given  him  Cecily — unless  one 
of  them  had  still  to  go  to  town !  He  glanced  at  the 
clock ;  it  was  half-past  nine.  A  sudden  excitement 
came  on  him ;  but  he  conquered  it  or  al  least  held  it 
down,  and  sat  there,  smoking  still. 

Mason  returned  and  began  to  clear  away.  "  Madame 
Zabriska  has  ordered  some  soup  and  claret  to  be  placed 
in  the  hall  for  her  Ladyship,  my  Lord,"  said  he,  in  ex- 
planation of  his  action. 

Soup  and  claret  might  mean  anything — peace  or 
war — going  or  staying — anything  except  sitting  down 
to  table  with  him.  On  the  whole  their  omen  was  not 
encouraging.  A  sudden  thought  shot  across  his  brain : 
"  By  Jove,  if  she's  taken  my  cab!  "  He  jumped  up; 
but  in  a  moment  sat  down  again.  The  coup  would  be 
a  good  one,  but  it  would  not  beat  him.  He  would  walk 
to  Mingham  and  get  a  bed  there.  He  was  quite  clear 
that  he  would  not  sleep  alone  at  Blent.  He  glanced 
at  the  clock  again ;  to  catch  the  train  at  Fillingford  she 
must  start  at  ten — and  so  with  him.  Stay  though,  she 
might  go  to  Merrion.    Mina  would  give  her  shelter. 

She  had  looked  very  beautiful.  Oh,  yes,  yes!  Harry 
smiled  as  he  conceded  the  natural  man  that  point.  It 
was  seen  plainly  in  retrospect ;  he  had  not  noticed  it 
much  at  the  time.  He  had  been  too  much  occupied  in 
proving  her  a  curmudgeon.  One  thing  at  a  time  was 
the  Tristram  way — provided  the  time  were  reasonably 
short.    But  he  felt  it  now,  and  began  to  wonder  if  he 

[415] 


Tristram  of  Blent 

had  said  too  much.  He  decided  that  he  had  not  said 
a  word  too  much. 

At  last  he  got  up  very  dehberately  and  went  into 
the  hall.  It  was  a  quarter  to  ten ;  the  soup  and  the 
claret  were  there.  Harry  stood  looking  at  them  a  mo- 
ment, but  they  could  not  answer  his  question.  With 
an  impatient  shrug  of  his  shoulders  he  walked  out  into 
the  garden.  And  there  his  first  thought  was  not  of 
Cecily. 

It  was  of  Blent,  Blent  his  own  again,  come  back  to 
him  enriched  by  the  experience  of  its  loss,  now  no 
more  all  his  life,  but  the  background  of  that  new  life 
he  had  begun  to  make  for  himself.  He  was  no  longer 
pulifed  up  by  the  possession  of  it — the  new  experiences 
had  taught  him  a  lesson  there — but  he  was  infinitely 
satisfied.  Blent  for  his  own,  in  his  own  way,  on  his  own 
terms — that  was  what  he  wanted.  See  how  fair  it  was 
in  the  still  night !  He  was  glad  and  exultant  that  it 
was  his  again.  Was  he  too  a  curmudgeon  then? 
Harry  did  not  perceive  how  any  reasonable  person 
could  say  such  a  thing.  A  man  may  value  what  is  his 
own  without  being  a  miser  or  a  churl. 

Nobody  was  to  be  seen  in  the  garden — not  Neeld, 
not  Mina,  nor  Cecily.  In  surprise  he  walked  the  length 
and  breadth  of  it  without  finding  any  of  them.  He 
went  on  to  the  bridge  and  peered  about,  and  then  on 
to  the  road ;  he  looked  even  in  the  river  in  a  curiosity 
that  forgot  the  impossible.  He  was  alone.  With  a 
quick  step  he  came  back  and  strode  round  the  house  to 
the  stables.  His  fly  was  gone.  He  searched  for  a  man 
to  question ;  there  was  none ;  they  had  all  gone  to  sup- 
per or  to  bed.  And  the  fly  was  gone.  He  returned  to 
the  bridge  with  an  uncomfortable  feeling  of  loneliness. 

Something  came  upon  him,  an  impulse  or  an  instinct. 
There  was  still  a  chance.  She  was  not  in  the  house, 
she  was  not  in  the  garden.    There  was  one  other  place 

[416] 


The  Curmudgeon 

where  she  still  might  be — if  indeed  she  had  not  fled 
and  left  him  desolate.  Where?  The  answer  seemed 
so  easy  to  him,  her  choice  of  a  spot  so  obvious.  If  he 
found  her  anywhere  that  night  he  would  find  her  by 
the  Pool,  walking  on  the  margin  of  its  waters — where 
he  had  seen  her  first  and  started  at  the  thought  that  she 
was  his  mother's  phantom.  He  walked  quickly  up  the 
valley,  not  thinking,  his  whole  being  strung  to  wait 
for  and  to  meet  the  answer  to  his  one  great  ques- 
tion. 

On  what  things  a  man's  life  may  seem  to  hang!  A 
flutter  of  white  through  the  darkness !  That  was  all. 
Harry  saw  it  with  a  great  leap  of  the  heart.  His  quick 
pace  dropped  to  a  leisurely  saunter ;  he  strolled  on. 
She  was  walking  toward  him.  Presently  she  stopped, 
and,  turning  toward  the  water,  stood  looking  down 
into  it.  The  Pool  was  very  black  that  night,  the  clouds 
thick  overhead.  But  for  her  white  frock  he  might 
never  had  seen  her  at  all.  He  came  up  to  her  and 
spoke  in  a  careless  voice. 

"  Where's  Neeld  ?  "  he  asked,  "  I  can't  find  him  any- 
where." 

"  He's  gone  back  to  Fairholme,  Harry.  It  was  late. 
I  was  to  say  good-night  to  you  for  him." 

"  And  what  have  you  done  with  Mina?  "  His  voice 
was  level,  even,  and  restrained. 

"  Mina's  gone  to  Merrion."  She  paused  before  she 
added :  "  She  was  tired,  so  I  pivt  her  in  your  fly  to  go 
up  the  hill." 

There  was  silence  for  a  moment.  Then  he  asked: 
"  Did  you  tell  the  fly  to  come  back  again?  " 

Silence  again,  and  then  a  voice  of  deceptive  meek- 
ness, of  hidden  mirth,  answered  him  :    "  No,  Harry." 

"  I  knew  you'd  be  here,  if  anywhere." 

"  Well,  I  was  sure  you'd  come  here  to  look  for  me, 
before  you  gave  me  up."    She  put  out  her  hands  and 

[417] 


Tristram  i?/' Blent 

he  took  them  in  his.  ''  It  was  all  true  that  you  said 
about  me,  all  abominably  true." 

He  did  not  contradict  her. 

"  That's  why  I'm  here,"  she  went  on.  "  When  you've 
feeling-s  like  that,  it's  your  duty  not  to  run  away  from 
the  place  that  excites  them,  but  to  stay  there  and  fight 
them  down  manfully." 

"  I  agree,"  said  Harry  gravely.  "  When  you've 
basely  deceived  and  tricked  somebody  it's  cowardly  to 
run  away.  The  straightest  thing  is  to  stay  with  that 
person  and  try  to  redeem  your  character." 

"How  did  you  know  it?"  she  asked.  "I  hardly 
knew  it  was  in  my  heart  myself." 

"  It  sharpens  a  man's  wits  to  be  called  a  liar — and  not 
to  be  able  to  deny  the  name." 

"  And  you  called  me  a — curmudgeon  !  Oh,  how  did 
you  happen  on  that  funny  old  word  ?  "  Her  laugh  rang 
fresh  and  gay  through  the  quiet  of  the  night.  "  After 
you'd  gone,  Mina  came  to  me." 

"  What  happened  then?  " 

"  Well,  I  ought  to  have  cried — and  Mina  did." 

"  Did  Mina  stop  you  going?  " 

"  Mina  ?    No !  "    The  acme  of  scorn  was  in  her  voice. 

"  What  then  ?  "  he  asked,  drawing  her  a  little  nearer 
to  him. 

"  I  wanted  to  obey  your  wishes.  You  said  I  was  to 
stay — and  you'd  go." 

"  Yes,  but  you've  sent  away  the  fly,"  objected  Harry. 
"  Well,  all  that  you  said  of  me  was  true  too." 

"  We  should  start  on  a  clear  understanding  then?  " 

"  I'm  a  liar — and  you're  a  curmudgeon?    Yes." 

"  What  awful  quarrels  we  shall  have!  " 

"  I  don't  care  a  hang  for  them,"  said  Harry. 

"  And  what  about  the  Arbitration  ?  " 

"  Absurd,  if  I'm  going  to  live  in  a  state  of  war!  " 

Suddenly  came  a  sound  of  wheels  rolling  briskly 

[418J 


The  Curmudgeon 

along  the  road  from  behind  them.  Cecily  sprang  away 
with  a  start. 

"  Oh,  the  fly's  not  come  back  ?  "  she  cried. 

"  Perhaps  there's  still  a  chance  for  one  of  us." 

She  caught  him  by  the  arm.  "  Listen !  Is  it  stop- 
ping?   No!    It  must  be  past  the  house!  " 

"  Do  you  want  it  to  stop?  "  he  asked. 

She  turned  her  eyes  on  him ;  he  saw  them  gleam 
through  the  darkness.  He  saw  her  lips  just  move  ;  he 
heard  no  more  than  the  lingering  fear,  the  passionate 
reproach,  of  her  murmured  exclamation,  "  Oh, 
Harry !  " 

The  next  instant  a  voice  rang  out  in  the  night,  loud, 
mellow,  and  buoyant.  They  listened  as  it  sang,  its 
notes  dominating  the  sound  of  the  wheels  and  seeming 
to  fill  the  air  around  them,  growing  louder  as  the 
wheels  came  near,  sinking  again  as  they  passed  on  the 
road  to  Mingham : 

"  Drink  to  me  only  with  thine  eyes. 
And  I  will  pledge  with  mine  : 
Or  leave  a  kiss  but  in  the  cup 
And  I'll  not  look  for  wine. 
The  thirst  that  from  the  soul  doth  rise 
Doth  ask  a  drink  divine  : — " 

Gradually,  melodiously,  and  happily  the  voice  died 
away  in  the  distance,  and  silence  came.  Harry  drew 
his  love  to  him. 

"  Dear  old  Bob  Broadley !  "  said  he  softly.  "  He's 
driving  back  from  Fairholme,  and  he  seems  most  par- 
ticularly jolly." 

"  Yes,"  she  murmured.  Then  she  broke  into  a  low, 
merry,  triumphant  laugh.  "  I  don't  see  why  he  should 
be  so  particularly  jolly."  She  pressed  his  hand  hard, 
laughing  again.  "  He's  only  engaged,"  she  whispered. 
"  But  we're  married,  aren't  we,  Harry?  " 

"  My  dear,  my  dear,  my  dear !  "  said  he. 

[419] 


XXX 

Till  the  Next  Generation 

MAJOR  DUPLAY  had  taken  a  flat  in  town,  and 
Mina  had  come  up  to  aid  him  in  the  task  of 
furnishing  it.  The  Major  was  busy  and  pros- 
perous in  these  days.  BHnkhampton  was  turning  up 
trumps  for  all  concerned,  for  Tver,  for  Harry,  for  South- 
end, and  for  him ;  the  scheme  even  promised  to  be 
remunerative  to  the  investing  public.  So  he  had  told 
Mina  that  he  must  be  on  the  spot,  and  that  hence- 
forward the  country  and  the  Continent  would  know 
him  only  in  occasional  days  of  recreation.  He  also 
murmured  something  about  having  met  a  very  at- 
tractive woman,  a  widow  of  thirty-five.  The  general 
result  seemed  to  be  that  he  had  forgotten  his  sorrows, 
was  well  content,  and  a  good  deal  more  independent  of 
his  niece's  society  and  countenance  than  he  had  been 
before.  All  this  Mina  told  to  Lady  Evenswood  when 
she  went  to  lunch  in  Green  Street. 

"  Yes,  I  think  I've  launched  uncle,"  said  she  com- 
placently, "  and  now  I  shall  devote  myself  to  the  Tris- 
trams." 

"  You've  been  doing  that  for  a  long  time,  my 
dear." 

"  Yes,  I  suppose  I  have  really,"  she  laughed.  "  I've 
been  a  sort  of  Miss  Swinkerton — I  wish  you  knew  her ! 
Only  I  devoted  myself  to  one  family  and  she  does  it 
for  all  the  neighborhood." 

Lady  Evenswood  looked  at  her  with  a  kindly  smile. 

"  You  were  rather  in  love  with  Harry,  you  know," 
she  said. 

[420] 


Till  the   Next  Generation 

"  Which  was  very  absurd,  but — yes,  I  was.  Only 
then  Cecily  came  and — well,  it  was  altogether  too 
artistic  for  me  even  to  want  to  interfere.  If  I  had 
wanted,  it  would  have  made  no  difference,  of  course. 
They've  been  pressing  me  to  go  on  living  at  Merrion, 
and  I  shall." 

"  Oh,  if  you  could  get  nothing  but  a  pigsty  on  the 
estate,  you'd  take  it.  Though  I  don't  know  what  you'll 
find  to'do." 

"  To  do  ?  Oh,  plenty  !  Why,  they're  only  just  begin- 
ning, and !  "     The  wave  of  her  hands  expressed 

the  endless  possibilities  of  a  Tristram  household. 

"  And  gradually  you'll  glide  into  being  an  old  woman 
like  me — looking  at  the  new  generation  !  " 

"  Her  children  and  his !  There  ought  to  be  some- 
thing to  look  at,"  said  Mina  wistfully.  "  But  we've  not 
done  with  Harry  himself  yet." 

"  Robert  says  he's  too  fond  of  making  money,  or 
he  might  do  something  in  politics." 

"  It  isn't  money  exactly.  It's  a  good  deal  Blent.  He 
wants  to  make  that  splendid.  Perhaps  he'll  come  to 
the  politics  in  time." 

"  He's  made  you  believe  in  him  anyhow." 

"  Yes,  and  I  know  I  don't  count.  All  the  same  I've 
seen  a  good  deal  of  him.  Mr  Neeld  and  I  have  been  in 
it  right  from  the  beginning." 

"  And  in  the  end  it  was  all  a  mare's  nest.  Fancy  if 
Addie  Tristram  had  known  that !  " 

"  I  think  she  liked  it  just  as  well  as  she  thought  it 
was.    And  I'm  sure  Harry  did." 

"  Oh,  if  he's  like  that,  he'll  never  do  for  the  British 
public,  my  dear.  He  may  get  their  money  but  he  won't 
get  their  votes.  After  all,  would  you  have  the  country 
governed  by  Addie  Tristram's  son?  " 

"  I  suppose  it  would  be  rather  risky,"  said  the  Imp 
reluctantly.       But    she    cheered    up    directly   on   the 

[421] 


Tristram   of  l^  lent 

strength  of  an  obvious  thought.     "  There  are  much 
more  interesting  things  than  poHtics,"  she  said. 

"  And  how  is  Cecily?  "  asked  Lady  Evenswood. 

"  Oh,  she's  just  adorable — and  Mrs  Iver's  got  her  a 
very  good  housekeeper." 

The  old  lady  laughed  as  she  turned  to  welcome  Lord 
Southend. 

"  I've  just  met  Disney,"  he  remarked.  "  He  doesn't 
seem  to  mind  being  out." 

"  Oh,  he'll  be  back  before  long,  and  without  his  in- 
cumbrances. And  Flora's  delighted  to  get  a  winter 
abroad.  It  couldn't  have  happened  more  conveniently, 
she  says." 

"  He  told  me  to  tell  you  that  he  thought  your  young 
friend — he  meant  Harry  Tristram — was  lost  forever 
now." 

"  What  a  shame !  "  cried  Mina  indignantly. 

"  Just  like  Robert !  He  never  could  understand  that 
a  man  has  a  history  just  as  a  country  has.  He  is  and 
ought  to  be  part  of  his  family." 

"  No  sense  of  historical  continuity,"  nodded  South- 
end. "  I  agree,  and  that's  just  why,  though  I  admire 
Disney  enormously,  I " 

"  Generally  vote  against  him  on  critical  occasions? 
Yes,  Robert  makes  so  many  admirers  like  that." 

"  Is  his  work  at  Blinkhampton  nothing?  "  demanded 
Mina. 

"  He  got  in  for  that  while  he  was  dispossessed," 
smiled  Southend.  "  I  say,  thank  heaven  he  wouldn't 
have  the  viscounty !  " 

**  That  would  have  been  deplorable,"  agreed  Lady 
Evenswood. 

"  It's  all  a  very  curious  little  episode." 

"  Yes.     No  more  than  that." 

"  Yes,  it  is  more,"  cried  Mina.  "  Without  it  he'd 
never  have  married  Cecily." 

[422] 


Till  the  Next  Generation 

"  Romance,  Madame  Zabriska,  romance !  "  South- 
end shook  his  head  at  her  severely. 

Mina  flinched  a  Httle  under  the  opprobrium  of  the 
word.  Yet  why?  In  these  days  we  have  come  to 
recognize — indeed  there  has  been  small  choice  in  the 
matter,  unless  a  man  would  throw  away  books  and 
wear  cotton-wool  in  his  ears — that  the  romance  of  one 
generation  makes  the  realities  of  the  next,  and  that  a 
love-affair  twenty  years  old  becomes  a  problem  in 
heredity,  demanding  the  attention  of  the  learned,  and 
receiving  that  of  the  general  public  also.  So  that 
though  the  affair  and  the  man  be  to  all  seeming  insig- 
nificant, consolation  may  be  found  in  the  prospect  of 
a  posthumous  importance ;  and  he  who  did  nothing 
very  visible  in  his  lifetime  may,  when  his  son's 
biography  comes  to  be  written,  be  held  grandfather  to 
an  epic  poem  or  a  murder  on  the  high  seas — and  it 
seems  to  be  considered  that  it  is  touch  and  go  which 
way  the  thing  turns  out.  Are  there  then  any  episodes 
left?  Does  not  everything  become  an  enterprise  of 
great  pith  and  moment,  with  results  that  will  probably, 
some  day  or  other,  be  found  to  admit  of  mathematical 
demonstration?  Happily  the  human  race,  in  practice 
if  not  in  theory,  declines  the  conclusion.  We  know 
that  we  are  free,  and  there's  an  end  of  it,  said  Dr 
Johnson.  Well,  at  least  we  can  still  think  that  we  are 
doing  what  we  like — and  that's  the  beginning  of  most 
things. 

That  temporary  inferiority  of  Bob  Broadley's,  on 
which  Cecily  had  touched  so  feelingly,  was  soon  re- 
dressed, and  after  the  wedding  Harry  had  a  talk  with 
the  bride.  It  was  not  unnatural  that  she  should  blush 
a  little  when  he  spoke  to  her — a  passing  tribute  to  the 
thought  of  what  might  have  been.  Harry  greeted  it 
with  a  laugh. 

"  I  suppose  we'd  better  be  straightforward  about 

[423] 


Tristram  of  Blent 

this?  "  he  said.  "  Mingham's  so  near  Blent,  you  see. 
We're  both  very  glad,  aren't  we,  Mrs  Broadley?  " 

"  I  imagine  so,"  said  Janie.  "  You  show  no  signs  of 
pining  anyhow." 

"  And  as  to  our  behavior — there's  not  a  father  in  the 
kingdom  who  wouldn't  think  us  right." 

"  I  was  the  worst — because  I  think  I  was  in  love  with 
Bob  all  the  time." 

"  I  was  just  as  bad — because  I  thought  you  were 
too,"  said  Harry. 

"  How  could  we  do  it  then?  "  she  asked. 

"  That's  the  odd  thing.  It  didn't  seem  at  all  out  of 
the  way  at  the  time,"  he  pondered. 

"  You'd  do  it  again  now,  if  the  case  arose,  but  I 
shouldn't.    That's  the  difiference,"  said  she. 

Harry  considered  this  remark  for  a  moment  with  an 
impartial  air.  "  Well,  perhaps  I  should,"  he  admitted 
at  last,  "  but  you  needn't  tell  that  to  Cecily.  Con- 
tent yourself  with  discussing  it  with  Mina  or  Mr 
Neeld." 

"  I'm  tired  of  both  of  them,"  she  cried.  "  They  do 
nothing  but  talk  about  you." 

That  night  as  he  sat  in  the  garden  at  Blent  with  his 
wife,  Harry  returned  the  compliment  by  talking  of  the 
Imp.  He  looked  up  toward  Merrion  and  saw  the 
lights  in  the  windows. 

"  I  think  Mina  is  with  us  for  life,  Cecily,"  said  he. 

"  I  like  her  to  be,"  she  answered  with  a  laugh.  "  First 
because  I  like  being  loved,  and  she  loves  me.  And  then 
I  hke  you  to  be  loved,  and  she  loves  you.  Besides, 
she's  been  so  closely  mixed  up  with  it  all,  hasn't  she? 
She  knew  about  you  before  I  did,  she  knew  Blent  be- 
fore I  did.  And  it's  not  only  with  you  and  me.  She 
knew  your  mother,  Addie  Tristram,  too." 

"  Yes,  Mina  goes  right  back  to  the  beginning  of  the 
thing." 

[424] 


Till  the  Next  Generation 

"  And  the  thing,  as  you  call  it,  is  what  brought  us 
here  together.  So  Mina  seems  to  have  had  something 
to  do  with  that  too.  It  all  comes  back  to  me  when  I 
look  at  her,  and  I  like  to  have  her  here." 

"  Well,  she's  part  of  the  family  story  now.  And 
she'll  probably  keep  a  journal  and  make  entries  about 
us,  like  the  late  Mr  Cholderton,  and  some  day  be  edited 
by  a  future  Mr  Neeld.    Mina  must  stop,  that's  clear." 

"  It's  clear  anyhow — because  nothing  would  make 
her  go,"  said  Cecily. 

"  Let's  go  up  the  hill  and  see  her  now  ?  "  he  sug- 
gested. 

Together  they  climbed  the  hill  and  reached  the  ter- 
race. There  were  people  in  the  drawing-room,  and 
Harry  signed  to  Cecily  to  keep  out  of  sight.  They  ap- 
proached stealthily. 

"  Who's  with  her  ?  I  didn't  know  anyone  was  stay- 
ing here,"  whispered  Cecily. 

Harry  turned  his  face  toward  her,  smiling.  "  Hush, 
it's  old  Neeld !  " 

They  peeped  in.  Neeld  was  sitting  in  an  arm-chair 
with  some  sheets  of  paper  in  his  hand.  He  had  his 
spectacles  on  and  apparently  had  been  reading  some- 
thing aloud  to  Mina;  indeed  they  heard  his  voice  die 
away  just  as  they  came  up.  Mina  stood  in  front  of  him, 
her  manner  full  of  her  old  excitement. 

"  Yes,  that's  it,  that's  just  right !  "  they  heard  her 
exclaim.  "  She  stood  in  the  middle  of  the  room 
and  " — Harry  pressed  his  wife's  hand  and  laughed 
silently — "  she  cried  out  just  what  you've  read.  I  re- 
member exactly  how  she  looked  and  the  very  words 
that  Mr  Cholderton  uses.  '  Think  of  the  difference  it 
makes,  the  enormous  diflference ! '  she  said.  Oh,  it 
might  have  been  yesterday,  Mr  Neeld !  " 

Harry  leapt  over  the  window-sill  and  burst  into  the 
room  with  a  laugh. 

[425] 


Tristram  of  Blent 

"  Oh,  you  dear  silly  people,  you're  at  it  again !  "  said 
he. 

"  The  story  does  not  lose  its  interest  for  me,"  re- 
marked old  Mr  Neeld  primly,  and  he  added,  as  he 
greeted  Cecily,  "  It  won't  so  long  as  I  can  look  at  your 
face,  my  dear.  You  keep  Addie  Tristram  still  alive  for 
me." 

"  She's  Lady  Tristram — and  I'm  the  enormous  dif- 
ference, I  suppose,"  said  Harry. 

Mina  and  Neeld  did  not  quite  understand  why 
Cecily  turned  so  suddenly  and  put  her  hand  in  Harry's, 
saying,  "  No,  Harry,  there's  no  difference  now." 

Meanwhile,  down  in  Blentmouth,  Miss  Swinkerton 
looked  up  from  the  local  paper  and  remarked  across 
the  table  to  Mrs  Trumbler : 

"  Here's  an  announcement  that  Lady  Tristram  will 
give  a  ball  at  Blent  in  January.  You'll  remember  that 
I  told  you  that  two  months  ago,  Mrs  Trumbler." 

"  Yes,  Miss  Swinkerton,  but  that  was  before  all 
the " 

"  Really  I'm  not  often  wrong,  my  dear,"  interrupted 
Miss  S.  decisively. 

"  Well,  I  hope  there  won't  be  any  more  changes," 
sighed  Mrs  Trumbler.    "  They're  so  very  startling." 

She  might  rest  in  peace  awhile.  Addie  Tristram  was 
dead,  and  the  title  to  Blent  was  safe  till  the  next  genera- 
tion. Beyond  that  it  would  not  perhaps  be  safe  to 
speak  in  view  of  the  Tristram  blood  and  the  Tristram 
ways. 


THE  END. 


[426] 


RECENT 
PUBLICATIONS 

lips  &  Co. 

New  York 

1901-1902 

Anthotii/  Hope's  New  Novel 

TRISTRAM   OF   BLENT 

IT  is  always  a  question  what  Anthonj'-  Hope  will  do 
next.  From  a  dashing  romance  of  an  imaginary 
kingdom  to  drawing-room  repartee  is  a  leap  which 
this  versatile  writer  performs  with  the  greatest  ease.  In 
his  "Tristram  of  Blent"  he  has  made  a  new  departure, 
demonstrating  his  ability  to  depict  character  by  some 
exceedingly  delicate  and  skillful  delineation.  The  plot 
is  unique,  and  is  based  upon  the  difference  of  time  of  the 
Russian  and  English  calendars,  by  which  a  marriage,  a 
birth,  and  the  ownership  of  lands  and  name  are  in  turn 
affected,  producing  complications  which  hurry  the' reader 
on  in  search  of  the  satisfactory  solution  which  awaits 
him.  The  Tristrams  are  characters  of  strong  individual- 
ities, of  eccentricities  likewise.  These,  coloring  all 
their  acts,  leave  the  reader  in  doubt  as  to  the  issue  ;  yet 
it  is  a  logical  story  through  and  through,  events  following 
events  in  carefully  planned  sequence.  A  work  of  un- 
doubted originality  based  on  modern  conditions,  "Tris- 
tram of  Blent  "  proves  that  the  author  does  not  need  an 
ideal  kingdom  to  write  a  thrilling  romance.    (12mo,  $1.50.) 

IRISH  PASTORALS 

Bi/  Shan  F.  Bullock 

"  TRISH  PASTORALS"  is  a  coUection  of  character 
X  sketches  of  the  soil — of  the  Irish  soil — by  one  who 
has  lived  long  and  closely  among  the  laboring,  farming 
peasantry  of  Ireland.  It  is  not,  however,  a  dreary  re- 
cital of  long  days  of  toil  with  scanty  food  and  no  recre- 
ation, but  it  depicts  within  a  life  more  strenuous  than 
one  can  easily  realize,  abundant  elements  of  keen  native 
wit  and  irrepressible  good  nature.  The  book  will  give 
many  American  readers  a  new  conception  of  Irish  pas- 
toral life,  and  a  fuller  appreciation  of  the  conditions  which 
go  to  form  the  strength  and  gentleness  of  the  Irish  char- 
acter.    (12rao,  $1.50.) 


THE   WESTERNERS 

By  Stewart  Edward  White 

WHEN  the  Black  Hills  were  discovered  to  be  rich 
in  valuable  ores,  there  began  that  heterogeneous 
influx  of  human  beings  which  always  follows  new-found 
wealth.  In  this  land  and  in  this  period,  Stewart  Edward 
White  has  laid  the  setting  of  "The  Westerners,"  a  story 
which  is  full  of  excitement,  beauty,  pathos  and  humor. 
A  young  girl,  growing  to  womanhood  in  a  rough  mining 
camp,  is  one  of  the  central  figures  of  the  plot.  The  other 
is  a  half-breed,  a  capricious  yet  cool,  resourceful  rascal, 
ever  occupied  in  schemes  of  revenge.  Around  these  two 
are  grouped  the  interesting  characters  which  gave  color 
to  that  rude  life,  and,  back  of  them  aU,  rough  nature  in 
her  pristine  beauty.  The  plot  is  strong,  logical,  and  well 
sustained ;  the  characters  are  keenly  drawn ;  the  details 
cleverly  written.  Taken  all  in  all,  "The  Westerners"  is 
a  thoroughly  good  story  of  the  far  West  in  its  most  pict- 
uresque decade.     (12mo,  $1.30.) 


BY   BREAD   ALONE 

By  I.  K.  Friedman 

MR.  FRIEDMAN  has  chosen  a  great  theme  for  his 
new  novel,  one  which  affords  a  wealth  of  color 
and  a  wide  field  for  bold  delineation.  It  is  a  story  of  the 
steel-workers  which  introduces  the  reader  to  various  and 
little-known  aspects  of  those  toiling  fives.  In  the  course 
of  the  work  occurs  a  vivid  description  of  a  great  strike. 
The  author,  however,  shows  no  tinge  of  prejudice,  but 
depicts  a  bitter  labor  struggle  with  admirable  impartiality. 
Along  with  the  portrayal  of  some  of  man's  worst  passions 
is  that  of  his  best,  his  affection  for  woman,  forming  a 
love-story  which  softens  the  stern  picture.  The  book 
will  appeal  to  students  of  industrial  tendencies,  as  well 
as  to  every  lover  of  good  fiction.     (12mo,  $1.30.) 


HERE  are  two  volumes  of  most  thrilling  tales,  gleaned 
from  the  material  which  the  age  has  brought  lis. 
Each  collection  occupies  an  original  field  and  dspicts  some 
characteristic  phase  of  our  great  commercial  life. 

WALL   STREET    STORIES 

Bi/  Edwin  Lefevre 

IT  would  be  difficult  to  find  a  better  setting  for  a  good 
story  than  this  hotbed  of  speculation.  On  the  Ex- 
change, every  day  is  a  day  of  excitement,  replete  with 
dangerous  risks,  narrow  escapes,  victories,  defeats.  There 
are  rascals,  "Napoleonic"  rascals,  and  the  "lambs" 
who  are  shorn ;  there  is  the  old  fight  between  right  and 
wrong,  and  sometimes  the  right  wins,  and  sometimes — 
as  the  world  goes — the  wrong.  In  the  maddening  whirl 
of  this  life,  which  he  knows  so  well,  Edwin  Lefevre  has 
laid  the  setting  of  his  Wall  Street  stories.  A  number  of 
them  have  already  appeared  in  McClure's  Magazine,  and 
their  well-merited  success  is  the  cause  of  publication  in 
book  form  of  this  absorbing  collection,     {\2vao,  $1.25.) 

HELD    FOR    ORDERS 

STORIES  OF  RAILROAD  LIFE 
By  Frank  H.  Spearman 

WHILE  railroad  life  affords  fewer  elements  of  pas- 
sion and  emotion  than  the  life  of  Wall  Street,  it 
offers  however  a  far  greater  field  for  the  depiction  of 
the  heroic.  Deeds  of  bravery  are  probably  more  com- 
mon among  these  hardy,  cool,  resourceful  men — the  rail- 
road employees  —  than  among  any  other  members  of 
society.  "  Held  For  Orders  "  describes  thrilling  incidents 
in  the  management  of  a  mountain  division  in  the  far  West. 
The  stories  are  all  independent,  but  have  characters  in 
common,  many  of  whom  have  been  met  with  in  McClure's 
Magazine.  Mr.  Spearman  combines  the  qualities  of  a 
practical  railroad  man  with  those  of  a  fascinating  story- 
teller, and  his  tales,  both  in  subject  and  manner  of  tell- 
ing, are  something  new  in  literature.     (12mo,  $1.50.) 


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